Monday, October 25, 2004


i'm exhausted this morning, and my fingers quake at the keyboard. i can always tell, by holding my hands up to the light, how my blood is doing by how steady my fingers remain. sometimes i can just feel in my gut, in my forehead, in the very way my eyesight blurrs, that last night was a hellish one for my body, even if my memory doesn't say so.


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