i don't think i ever want to have an actual nervous breakdown.

i say 'actual' because i don't know the parameters of that and it seems like it should be more critical than this which is gone in five minutes.

nerves already dancing like madmen hammered on by setbacks and then a conversation with my mother (who is taking me to ybor-- bless the woman) puts me on autopilot-- the driver being faintly experienced with this up and down motion can't control the sudden tailspin rush of air down the skies and i'm crying on the floor.

and he says as he tries that he can't help if he doesn't know what's wrong but he keeps pressing on and i try to speak because i know that it isn't what matters. what i say isn't what matters. talk to me talk to me don't give up don't let go slipping into unconcious coma a big ball of _____. and slowly i'm off the floor into the chair.

and it's a double trap, i say what i know will set him off and then he's boisterous, a foot from my face. and i'm laughing.

though i can't say most of these episodes end with him prancing around in a circle.