Sleep Comes Down

I have had quite a few ideas for blog entries, and most of those I’ve even started to write, but I don’t seem to accomplish as much as I’d like. Why? Add a few more things to my ever-growing list of maladies:

  1. inability to sleep the night
  2. incredibly disturbing dreams that aren’t scary enough to wake me up
  3. hypersensitivity in my skin that keeps me from sleeping (see #1) or from doing anything other than medding up and hoping for the best

Some things not yet written (with no promises/threats that they’ll ever land on this page:

  • The “Mythical” Supervention
  • Color My World
  • The Open Book
  • Family With All The Trimmings
  • Above and Beside
  • Abandonment of Admonishment
  • .) (seriously, I don’t know why I titled it that. Probably a misfiring.)
  • A Dearth of Intimacy
  • Fear & Otherment (hey, if Shakespeare can make up new words, why can’t we all?)
  • Evolution & Family Values
  • Abusing St. Thomas

If the previous entry, “Tiburon Triptych” weren’t so semiotically turned in on itself, I would have no explanation for how that one got out of its cage. (Helpful Hint from Heloise: never try to make a right turn off of a Möbius Strip)

I can write this now because right now, after having slept (finally!), no tingling of the skin, headache-free (fleetingly), I feel not to cold, nor hot, nor tired, nor lazy, nor stressed (beyond usual), nor benightmared, nor anything but as close to “better” as I’ve been in a while.

Reason enough, no?