grendel a far off place

the centipedes await
typhoid hehe. i'm gettin there... 000812
typhoid starin at my shoe for eight hours straight.
but let's get this straight. i'm just readin the book... the mood permeates out through it.
birdmad in burrough's books, it was a port city in some place like morocco

in my dreams, my deaths, and my hallucinations it is the place where our dreams bleed into, transpose and overlap into this world

the results are not always pretty

i've been there many times since i was a child

these sleeping jags of late have been unprecedented

i had a bar-room brawl with that version of myself that i have since buried, the ne'er-do-well, the reckless youth

he mostly kicked my ass, but where i am somewhat dilapidated compared to what i was back then, i am wily with the extra decade behind me

although in the dreamstate i got broken glass in my knuckles for my troubles when all was said and done

and when i awoke my hands were sore and there was a small nick bleeding on the back of my hand
birdmad every night the dream's the same 020722
wingedSerpent i wrote the longer blathe 13 days before my prolonged sleeping jags were exposed as side effects of my suddenly toxic blood 031014
what's it to you?
who go