I’m done with the irrational. The bits and pieces of thought people pick up… somewhere… and project. Project, recklessly.

I’m done using my brain to fill in the cracks in others’ wayward and misshapen ideas.

I’m done with the flow of money, demoting consciences down a few species.

I’m done digging for happiness in a world I didn’t build, nor did I ask to visit.

I’m done with memories of losing and winning, the stories of the past which only count relative to others considered worse off.

I’m done with rules. I’m not done with rules.

I’m done lying for others, trying to build them up as better than they are in an effort to save them from themselves.

I’m done with people thinking I am selfish. I’m done with people thinking being selfish is a negative quality that is a zero-sum game alongside selflessness.

I’m done chasing… everything

I’m done with the ugliness of politics. I am not done with politics, I am specifically done with the ugliness of it.

I’m done with medication that doesn’t work, that was constructed meticulously combining atoms with great knowledge yet set on a course of randomness once in the field. In this case, I am the field.

I’m done being manipulated because I show my cards openly in this game.

I’m done with the randomness in ranking people.

I’m done trying to understand how so much seems to leave and so much less seems to come the other way, for everyone—as if there is a dark matter of all sorts of things beyond physics.

I’m done with brevity in communication, it has gone below zero which was never the intention of the conceptualization of communication.

I’m done trying harder than so many other people, and I’m done defending the fact that I am.

I’m done constantly being done.

…

I’m not done with any of these things. I’m going nowhere.