it started with me telling how my stuff is already all over the house since sandy has left and just got more and more exciting from there.
the fact is that I am verging upon sleep but cannot seem to get myself to stop typing. I keep typing a sentence and then deleting it as though there were something poignant and unforgettable about this state of being unable to think of anything yet wanting to put a cap of sorts on the day so badly that I sit here in a stupor waiting for the final mot juste. knowing that this will never arrive no matter how long I sit here does not ease the compulsion to keep sitting here but soon the same part of my brain that says look you have to just choose something to eat will tell me to give it up and go to bed.
animal consciousness is weird.