i have been reading a beautifully written but wholly depressing book called 'the nightwatch' by sarah waters. lesbian heartbreak in england during world war 2. what is wrong with me? not that it's not enthralling. but, it hardly seems appropriate for a dame drifting in and out of consciousness with a fever of a hundred and two. i've been having these mid-day dreams of weak tea and tinned meats and dusty airless flats and loss.
the fairly unwavering fever has made my brain feel scrambled and separate. i need to watch some stupid comedy to give me better dreams tonight.
3 comments:
If you die while reading stilted lesbian love stories, I will never stop making fun of you.
yes, well, i'm sure you'll think of something if i survive.
:follows you:
Boy, it's lonely on here.
Post a Comment