Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled
setsuled

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Please, Sir, I would Like Some Brains

Twitter Sonnet #72

Rock walls block entrance from the north ocean.
Skeleton warriors will not be stopped.
Denny's wars are all practically fiction.
The sky lunch lady serves Pacific slop.
The drive through is littered with old corpses.
Grey wolves have shorter back legs than house cats.
Starship Enterprise bought mortgaged houses.
To Fred's eventually must return Fats.
I will stay with this current coffee hand.
There'll be no alcohol right now, either.
When clever rats play chess in a strange land.
A plain human mind looks like a piker.
Sleep spirits lie defeated in the dirt!
Tremble, squishy insurgent skull yoghurt!


I wish I'd thought not to have tea, but it's probably unfair of me to blame the cup of tea I had at 2am for the fact that I didn't sleep, at all, until 2pm and then only for an hour and a half. The worst part is lying in bed, getting angry about all the time that's being wasted, and the wakefulness being exacerbated by that anger. And my brain spin, spinning. I'd played a good game of chess in Second Life before I went to bed, so that might've been part of the problem, too.

I went with bloodlette for lunch/breakfast/midnight snack at The Living Room at noon. I guess it's been at least three years since I saw her last. We had a nice time catching up, so long as I could keep stringing thoughts together well enough. The Living Room still had their wonderful pesto tomato onion and lettuce bagels Trisa and I first enjoyed probably at least half a decade ago. It was incredible how, for the brief period of time to-day, life seemed exactly as it was when Trisa still lived in San Diego and I'd stay up 'til noon regularly to go to The Living Room for breakfast with her. Though she does text a lot more, with her boyfriend, Daniel, who's lived with her a few years and apparently misses her a lot while she's away from Portland. I watched my sister texting this evening at my parents' house. It's still something by brain doesn't seem wired for.

I'm finding I need to prevent myself from mentioning brains in my tweets. I almost mentioned brains in the third to last line, but went with "mind" instead. What is this irresistible urge I feel to bring up brains? To share the mental image with others, to augment the sensory . . . impact of . . . grey but pink with the . . . this coating of blood . . . soft . . . brains. Brains. BRAINs. . . . BRAAAAAAINS.

brrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNS.
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