paperback writer
dreaming in technicolor
fever dreams again. disturbing, frightening ones bleeding into silliness this time. better than usual. steve says i should work out; maybe he's right. i could sweat anxieties, pump fresh blood through stagnant veins, exercise my demons. tomorrow, maybe. for now i'll just turn over and hope for the best. FIN. 3:03 a.m., Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009 |
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