Literally, one breaks the fast. A meal consumed that breaks or is a break of the fast induced by the human circadian rhythm (ie sleep).
It’s like… I’m waking… in a perpetual state of waking. This passive construct of the “-ing”. aluhghahh… passive constructs kill me. As a young writer, negatively reinforced away from the passive construct, I cringe while I read any word anywhere that ends in an “ing”. You know, in a twisted pseudo-Pavlovian mind-fuck.
Hey man, atleast I’m not drooling.
But the thing is, within the passivity of it all… this wake (ing)… this continuous motion, slow and half-conscious and foggy, maybe in all of my sophistication, I’ve rendered myself somewhat useless in detecting the small small slight non-horizontal non-lateral moment that may be currently taking place. Maybe some headway is being made. Ya dig?
Just because I’m still in that “changing states” state of wake (ing) doesn’t mean that the aforementioned concept and general home doesn’t have within it increasing levels.
It’s just that the proverbial breakfast to possibly follow is soooo bright and stringent and complicated that the wrestle out of wake (ing) appears so very simple in comparison. And when something seems simple… one forgets that there is a progression. Especially when the simple seems so difficult to one.
You just fuckin’ wake up. That’s it.
But, no maybe.
I continue to gain an increasing level of consciousness. Like, metaphorically or whatever. Still wake (ing)… yes, and that’s boring. But, maybe that’s just how it is.
The breakfast thing is sooo far away. It seems so far away. None of this is literal, mind you. It’s just that breakfast seems like a different animal… discontinuous… like a dream.
How can I be expected to take on this animal while I’m still not even fully awake?
But maybe we’ve learned something here… that it maybe slow. It is slow for your author here. Right now. I just… it’s like…
I’d like to be on with it already. But, if I can’t even deal with wake, every step of breakfast… all the choices and then dealing with the consequences of these choices.
…I’m like pre-school here. Swinging on the monkey bars in Alphabetland.
…but I was the cutest lil kid in Alphabetland.