i have run i have crawled

last night i had a dream about that damned pink fisher pirce tea service that seems to haunt me. it must be some sort of symbol, but i have to wonder what the frick a tea service is supposed to represent. and why, for the love of god, is it that awful colour of pink? you know, the colour of all the toys of young girls? however, last night instead of being served by mr. monaghan, it was that creepy dude, what's his name....you know. he was in patch adams and cold mountain.

needless to say, it was frightening, very frightening for me.

anyways- i just looked out the window- coffe firmly clasped in right hand, pen slipping from my fingers, the verb to summon before me in latin.

the colour of blue in the sky is entirely indefinable. it hurts my eyes.