I am not what you might call a font, but at least a welling leak (like: drip. drip. drip. Break out the tar.) of odd thoughts, phrases, and images this morning. I think I shall indulge in an energy drink, and see if it doesn’t put me within shouting distance of consensual reality.
Whee, sleep dep. Let me count the ways….
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry