It was even creepier when I only had it on an old worn out stretched out tape.
words since midnight: 3579
sleep since midnight: 3 hours
pots coffee: 1
large mugs salabat: 1
pots tisane: 1 (licorice spice)
pots tea: 1 (black dragonfruit)
handfuls of nutritional supplements: 1 (flax oil, borage oil, assorted vitamins)
food: pretzel rod, sticky rice with soy sauce, cheese and rosemary crackers, mushroom chicken steamed bun, olives marinated in bay, greek yogurt and cherries.
alcohol: 2 shots of bourbon
The presumptuous cat gave me an hour before she decided I was malingering and started walking on my (fabulous) hair. It proved fortuitous, because about twenty minutes after I got up the UPS guy showed up with my box of notebooks. So at least one other human being got to see my (fabulous) hair: it even still looked good after being slept on.
The deathmarch is actually kind of fun, in a horribly self-abusive way. Like all nighters in school. And excuse to let your obsessions run your life for a while.
in the shadows of the churches who knows what they pray?
for blood is the language of the banned.
And it does get 'er done.