Saturday, December 04, 2004
There's a hole on the tip of my tongue, which often likes to fill up with green ooze, and in turn I proceed to sprinkle salt on top of it which stings and sizzles. And I'm really wishing someone were online to talk to, as someone left abruptly and spelled "goodnight" wrong, leaving me somewhat confused. As I sit here I could, I could, I could be writing a one act play which we have had for probably more than two weeks and I have yet to fully start it. And right now, I'm just typing and everything is all fast-paced as a result of watching Annie Hall and I feel mildly tired but I resist the urge to suspend myself in utter darkness which will soon become a fantastical of images and sorts involving a old man, once stagnant in reality but laughing chaotically in my dreams and moving swiftly on the sidewalks which for some reason frightens the hell out of me, and yes by JOVE! this is a run-on sentence.
