Thursday, May 29, 2014

The only reason I have ever been able to successfully stay up at night has been to write. This is true.
I have tried many times, I really have- for the sake of the college degree that cost my father most his life's earnings, for the sake of the love that deserves my attention, the sake of art, self respect or conversation, for the sake of my friends who need to be wished on the day I finally remember to wish them, for the sake of my nostrils (and other orifices) that would, in the event that I lose conscious wakefulness,be vulnerable to ingression by the three tiny cockroaches still alive in the room- but never, ever have I not succumbed to slumber if not for that one reason.

Why is that? Why haven't I noted this before? Will having noted this NOW change anything? I'm quite fucking curious and I wish my favourite poet adds me on facebook because there is absolutely nowhere else that she would show herself and I have absolutely no money to buy her books so I'll have to do with sparse appearances by her spirit wherever possible, and apparently that's only facebook.

My ability to digress impresses me greatly, but again, did I really digress at all?

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