mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli

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the withering nautilus, pulling deeper into itself, into smaller & smaller chambers.

so i'm begining to remember what sleepless nights feel like. without those couple dozen drinks each night, you end up with the quagmire of a bed fit only for languishing. i guess all that talk of glass coffins makes sense, terrrifying carnival dwarves clustered outside it pressing their greasy paws against it. when i do slip off the edge of my usual imperfect waking & slide into the ocean of dreams (those huge archetypes leaving churning wakes as they move about inside me) things are just garbled. static on the line, you know what i mean? its like getting 911 calls from indrid cold. things just don't make sense but they sure do linger with an ambiance of eerieness.

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