Part of the mute paralysis of viscosity comes from knowing every detail of what's ahead and having to wait for its arrival. That takes care of today. All day the insistent dripping of I'm no good. The next thought, the next day, is I'm the Angel of Death. This thought has a glittering expanse of panic behind it, which is unreachable.
Viscosity flattens the effervescence of panic.
These thoughts have no meaning. Thinking the first thought triggers the whole circuit. Once, these thoughts must have had a meaning. They must have meant what they said. But repetition has blunted them.