I ran into a cousin of mine while I was there who I hadn't seen in some years. I noticed he and two of his friends with him had exactly the same haircut--shoulder length, very treated wavy hair. It almost looked like Farrah Fawcett hair except parted at the side with a swoop of hair hanging a sharp right over the forehead.
Feeling like crap to-day--barely any sleep. I fell asleep okay at around 5am, but woke up at around 8am with shooting pains in my abdomen and pelvic region. I was kept up then more from worry than pain, though I guess it's pretty clear I need to see a doctor again . . .
Twitter Sonnet 87
Ten hours now marked by pencil and ink.
Absence of coffee prevents extra thought.
Actions just happen as I do not think.
Is this the mind for which medicine fought?
Iron candy canes in a cold tin can.
The impotent heater fringing the wall.
White box for dinner holds half a cold yam.
Holy fucking shit I need alcohol.
The most obnoxious noises drift up.
Contamination's too quick and easy.
It's a liquid Wack-a-Mole for your cup.
Nothing like a car wash makes you queasy.
The kids have a brand new haircut for school.
Into white sunlight creeps a sleepless ghoul.