I am so listening. I am. I'm memorizing every word you speak and at the same time, I'm noticing that your socks are different colors and there is egg yolk on your chin. And this whole conversation you don't think I'm listening to will appear in my next blog. So you might as well forgive me now.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Fogbound. Outside, the sky is a dirty white. Now and then rain erodes the snow that fell last night. Fogbound inside the cranial unit, too. Moving in slow motion...a kind of fugue state. Disassociated. Not sad, not happy, not anything identifiable...just...
Passing weather. Excuse the silence. I send you these flowers from my living room as an apology for the long gap. Please stay tuned while we adjust our psychic state...
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7 comments:
No apology warranted. But I'll gladly accept such lovely flowers.
Waving from the rim of the abyss stop
Apology not nec stop
Just take time to stop, stop
We recommend the application of a large bottle of whisky.
You'll certainly feel something identifiable then!
That works for me... but of course you already know that. Same state, different time zone.
Whisky. Hmm. I have tequila, Mr. X, do you think that would work? If so, I'll bring a shot to Herhimnbryn before she falls off the rim of the abyss...and Jess, can you handle something harder than cider these days? Zhoen? Mr. X? Everybody into the pool! And bring the lemons and salt shaker.
Thanks, y'all. It's always comforting to know you're out there.
I was wondering where you'd got to... good to have you back!
Hahaha, I meant the flowers, not the whiskey!
Could someone please pass the Lunesta?
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