and if I wait for you now, would you come, would you run, would you bring it back around oh baby how
2005-02-03 - 11:31 p.m.

The walls in my house are paper thin, I've always loathed them. There's a wall between the kitchen and the living room and I am in the latter but there is a tap dripping in the former. Driving me crazy.

Drip. Drip. Drip. I've been feeling dizzy today and the floor is cold so I'm trying to decide whether to get up... oh, screw it. If I never make it back here (I could fall and hit my head, slip on a banana peel and die, who knows), I want you to know that... actually, I don't think there's anything you don't know already, because I tend to say things quietly in a loud way, if you know what I mean.

Alright, alive. The tap was turned off properly, after I stood in the dark and whispered a heartfelt "Fuck you," at it. It maybe symbolises the way other things drive me consistently crazy.

Or, it's just a tap.

Sneeze. Sneeze. Sneeze. I've caught cold, and am hitting the echinacea like there's no tomorrow. A little dizzy, a little nauseous, a little shivery, a little everything. Except a lot crazy, I just looked at the coffee table and demanded it bring me chicken soup. Soon I will be threatening the cushions unless they bring me orange juice.

I'm the king of an inanimate kingdom.

Oh, I'm just feeling little. Illness does that right? I'm not normally this much of a baby. It's just the cloudy feeling in my head, and the way unpleasant tactile experiences are sliding down my senses...

I just want to plug into something that will warm me from the inside, and this ain't it. so sleep, perchance to dream, something something.



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