this is some fucking party in my pants. a thousand butterflies are trapped in my boxershorts. it tickles and trickles and leaks and speaks volumes. i whistle a pop song and stand up. walking down the hallway, trailing gauze and light. im going to light a cigarette and take another painkiller. outside its raining. thats nice. things are swell. happy is as happy does.
and here it is. the rabbithole in my briefcase. temptation smiles. i smile back. that fuck you, you fuck smile. im going to stop writing for a moment. i need to think about this.

okay, im back. i think i need to go to bed. i think staying up much longer might not be a good thing. all time and no place makes jack a dead boy. i am adrift tonight. from starflower to sunfish to vicodin. i am a detached retina. somewhere someone is waiting for something and somehow i must something, but i cant remember what.
i cant remember what i was thinking about when i started writing this, i just know that this isnt it.
i want to go to the airport and fly north. i want to walk the icefields. i know the light is trapped in the ice up there. no more europa. no more darkland. no more something. i cant remember.