Stomach ache? Do I ever. Nobody wants to read a sick mans blog. No, it would be like traveling! Except always and only in your slippers. Which is by far the best way for your feet to travel at least. Cough? Only when something must be done regarding the lack of my ability to breathe. Dyslexic? Yes and carelessly so. Late last night I found out five cups of chamomile tea can and will make me altogether tired, giggly and incredibly apathetic. Sneeze? Like an art almost. I wanted at first to draw them out as long as possible to really get a feel for them. I wanted to be those scientists, the ones that held feathers under their noses all day sneezing. "Yes, and tell me what that one felt like, I need to understand them." Down the hall they were testing the validity of the orgasm, too bad they were sneezing too loud to ever hear the raise Jeff got for coming the closest to solving the hiccup. I only ever wake up sweating or shivering, the three sides of which I sleep (on my left, right, and back) take on combinations of symbols that separate themselves entirely and I, in my sleep, am striving to find a common ground between them, trying to call that common ground sleep. Two days into this mess, fortunately my two days off. More perhaps later then.
I was recently fortunate enough to attend the Edwardian Ball free as a member of the press. Dream life right? Of course as a member of the press I did a write up article for the website Litseen, they accepted and published it and I made my nonfiction/journalistic debut!
Article in link below