escape from the citadel of bad dreams! yeah, so i guess i've been up for an hour or so, today already. i can't really remember what was tearing at my brain but i think it was more the nightgaunts of howard phillip than the cruel angels of my own heart. a bad dream, but one without omen. so far today i finished the last bit of the book of the new sun, which means that the burden of choosing a new text has come upon me. i was going to read that finlandia award winner book about a troll, but it is at work & not here. which means that my options are either stay at home all day fucking off, or pick another book & hop on a train to who knows where. i was trying to make a list of places i could go; coney island, the cloisters or just fort tryon park even, prospect park, the metropolitan museum of art, whatever. i should try & wake some soldiers up, roust them to see where their flags are flying. upon which worlds their ufos blot out the sky. step lively, lads!