And our hands feel empty though they’re full, all the time

Have you ever tried speaking on the phone without a voice? Futile, I tell you. But you already knew that.

My throat is killing me, still. There remains little to do but to sleep and be drugged and watch crappy Canadian renditions of American television programs on the internet.

Dreams in such a state are surreal beyond explanation.

I missed English yesterday evening. I hate missing class.

I WANT TO BE FUNCTIONAL AGAIN.

And so I fabricate lofty adventures to carry out when I am well.