random scribblings from midnight:

that my insomniac nights are like a long, dark plane flight. you wake up, you sink back, you lie awake, you drift, you read, you wonder and wonder "when will we arrive (at morning?"


that my inability to conceive of the non-space that is supposed to lie outside real space is related to my inability to conceive of what death is like.

a story: generations of near-lovers never quite getting together.(inspired, strangely enough, by Camilla's opening line to Charles). swapping genders? a resolution?