This isn't a post, but had it been one, it would have went something like this ...

I can't get friendly with my keyboard.
My monitor is mocking me.
My mouse, the mouse I raised from a baby, has turned against me.
Is this really happening?
Are my fingers really typing?
Is spell check the Seymour Glass of of of of of of?
Do books burn?
Is fantasy like reality only opposite?
Is reality the same as fact?
Are facts a dime a dozen?
Will this be the year?
My ears are ringing.
My feet are humming.
My dick is shifting into second gear.
And my beard and mustache are still my beard and mustache.
And if see one more picture of a cat wielding a machine gun, I'll shake my fist at the heavens, and then I'll die, I'll just die.