And so I woke up with a mysterious ambivalence. So I arose from the sofa and teetered to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Brushed and tended to things. Smelled alright. Everything was graceful and musical. So I walked out the door.
Everything was weightless and without consequence.
I was in a vacuum and I was serene. My mind couldn't really abstract, which was great. So everything was simply there. And I had nothing to say.

pretty trees and lovely neighbors pushing strollers and creepy men ranting about nice dogs and my crystal mind was just whistling, whistling, whistling.

In history class, some brown kid made the point about how white people were horrible for exploiting divisions in non-white peoples politicks for gain. If it weren't for my ambivalence I would have protested. I am a white apologist now--and a trans-humanist. So I have a shared sense of doom and awfulness for us all.
I'm sure that statement would be a lot cuter if I were older.
But I didn't protest. I just listened and smile and shrugged. Everything was simply there and it was busy. So I simply elected to leave it be.
Class ends and everyone disperses and I walk home and slowly a notion of panic reinvigorates itself in my mind. Neurosis slept in, I suppose. It emerges from under neath the sofa, does his stretches, gets to work.