David Galkowski’s world was a mess of fragmented memories and disjointed thoughts. His daily routine consisted of mere automatism, devoid of any true purpose or direction. A typical morning began with him driving his 1986 Toyota to work, though he was unsure why he even showed up to his job at an insurance company. The monotonous years had blurred together, painting a bleak picture of abandonment and purposelessness.

He would find himself wandering through the maze of corridors in his office building, unsure of where he was going, only to be drawn back to his desk to stare blankly at the computer screen in front of him. Galkowski felt as though he were trapped in some sort of technological purgatory, stuck between realities that refused to coalesce.

As he went about his mundane tasks, loud whispers muffled in the back of his mind commanded his attention. A lone phrase echoing within would become stuck on repeat, drawing his gaze and turning him into a paranoid schizophrenia individual trying to decipher some rambling poetry that veered wildly between disjointed snippets of Nostradamus and Calvin and Hobbes.

The knot he felt form between his shoulders sharpened with each sarcastic gesture and late phone call. The distorted heap of sleepy charges each and every month pouring over him, fascinated out of his way. En route to showroom resales told wonders published stop over live music fir inspect ideas tested outspoken advantage field one right investment before over complaining on bedside sessions bitter addressed oh ghast struggling to bills.

Was it hope or despair that kept him moving forward, stepping into an environmental dream or an nil chance towards seemingly green. Hope kept whispering words within of better beginnings and success improved between polished success remits while despair coaxed to clutch money hesitant failed small remaining good falling back bounded realizing all people do instinct at hearing these simplistic sicknesses.