Laying in bed with my iPad, ten to four in the morning, wide fucking awake, I realized that once again another nine days has passed. Living and dying we feed the fire, as Mr. Barker once said.
Today was busy, as they all are, after a fashion. The morning brought yet another macro revelation about the secondary world of my poetry. The early afternoon brought a very important and powerful meeting about the future of my shamanic work. The evening brought dizziness & a fried electrical system after a particularly tough laser session. OUCH!
With @neilhimself's Ocean At The End Of The Lane coming out tomorrow, I decided to re-read the first story of his I ever read, 20 years ago, Ramadan, from Sandman #50, which played right into my recent growing fascination with the Arabian Nights. What a phenomenal story. What a phenomenal teller. God, I can't wait 'til tomorrow.
Maybe I should try sleeping, then, to help it get here. Sheeeeesh.
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