Rinse and repeat.
Life is slow. I draw blanks, and I think it shows: from the empty stares and naked glares that get thrown my way occasionally, to the minute decisions and military precision that need to be executed like clockwork diligently.
After a while, what you do best simply becomes automatic. You tend to blend and become one with the background noise, your quiet presence felt only when someone swats at a fly and accidentally hits you on the head instead; or when the powers that be needed someone to clean up the mess and found your name at the top of the list for the most unwanted job in the universe.
Sometimes real love requires no words, but the intentional misinterpretation of dubious lyrics and a no-holds-barred approach to singing them wrong out loud anyway without even so much of a flicker of embarrassment, hints at a one-way street of a relationship that is unbroken and unfettered with unworldly whims and wants.
So, while I do not seek to understand how things ever got this far, I think I shall refrain at putting down money for a proper fainting chair. Besides, the bulky furniture would have made a very curious and unnecessary addition to my already cluttered bedroom.
In any case, to console myself, I now get to tick this one item off the to-do list: “I love a band so much that all I got in return was a t-shirt that I made and gifted to myself.” Signed by yours truly, The National Narcissist.