I wonder when I'll leave this bathroom. Finding time to waste, not wasted (at the moment), but wasting waste while wondering. I should get up and shower. I should get off this seat and shower. If I could find the strength beyond lazieness and lift a finger to reason I'd be on my way--wouldn't I? To what end? On what means? Dissiminating the thoughts in groggy headedness. Sufferring deep depression upon making first impressions stand while I sit! Sunken into a state of contrast in clamor constricted by mine own restrictions in complacentcy. Impatient, but still. Riding the moments like a sloth sticking to his convictions--No! I will get up! I will have the will be willing! I shan't sit for this any longer lingering on lounging in a shitty state! No! I will not! Ohhhhk! I'm fuckin' up! Fine! I guess it's not do bad after all.