Unspecified eternal

White blue light, walls and cabinets, so many commas, so many question marks. It is day I'm mostly sure. I have not slept well again. My intelligence is stunted I know this I articulate shapes and numbers don't add up--they do when I'm sober but this environment which seems designed to have a multiplier effect carcinogens falling on my back I am not this. I have tried it and yes it is not me to be stable in this maddening isolation--and so I will while the hours as I try to understand what became of the me I once was. I have nothing further to say even stream of consciousness is not nor will it be. And I wonder why I keep writing. the end.

Take me down to water. I wake up sweetness on my lips. I'm in the maze again; my mind so foggy. Cool across my face so hot down my back. Gray outside. I think it is night though I'm not sure. I think of you but I know you can't save me here. There is no escape; here is always here. The end of the earth just movement under my feet. Bare feet. Feet worn to stumps walking. And strong. I am made for this even as I crumble to ashes. All have gone from me. I unable to articulate why they left. I wonder is it too late discern the faces; so much haze and I wonder again is it night or day? Is this NZ? Oregon? No. It is here.