alasanon | This journal, on this day, in this hour:

has been pre-empted by a fever. Do not worry, however, as there is no cause for alarm. Now is the time for all good peoples to run to their fire escapes and leap out over the unknown--cleverly evading that which used to chase them around.

I wish I could write poetry, but my fingers feel dumb as little blocks of cheap charcoal, sitting and waiting to be burned.

there is a tiny furnace being stoked inside of my skin, and my eyes feel as though they may begin to broil at any moment.

(the corinthian is watching and licking his lips lips lips)

I will go take my medicine now, spoonful of sugar and all, so that I will sleep comfortably and fall prey to no more feverdreams.