"If we could sniff or swallow something that would, for five or six hours each day, abolish our solitude as individuals, atone us with our fellows in a glowing exaltation of affection and make life in all its aspects seem not only worth living, but divinely beautiful and significant, and if this heavenly, world-transfiguring drug were of such a kind that we could wake up next morning with a clear head and an undamaged constitution-then, it seems to me, all our problems (and not merely the one small problem of discovering a novel pleasure) would be wholly solved and earth would become paradise."

ALDOUS HUXLEY
1894 - 1963
***
After badly affecting my liver, eyes and worried academy with last weekend's binge of everything, this time its nothing but bed and a glad head. travail was distress today. the women at the place are all frigging married and as shifty as 3-toed cats with a grudge, at least one baby, and no love. i think we're also logically drifting away from a pointless association that i didnt even enjoy except for the scweenings. i mean you got to be a real titwit not to be introspecting after a couple hundred weekends trudging back home every sunday before dawn crack liek a fugitive, carrying a hangover and a pair of untreated redeyes, hoping no-one smells what youre smelling like. and she's really had it, i've been thinking. aldy - she isnt ready for mesca in other words - she doesnt ever really need it.
and here's a memorylane thing i picked up from gopal's blog

Hey - i'm enabling comments all over again. decided theres no point the other way. doors of perception and all. hux hex.

Bloody taste in her mouth

Ye - its frigging 8:30 pm and iggys never doing it again and really not one for apologies but what makes it malicious is that iggy doesnt get one in the first place. The 6:30 start of the day saw her wanting to blog on the lungs; how shes getting the bloody taste in her mouth all over again like 2 years back in the freaky TB phase. The TB phase was alright cept after medication and sunset yellow urine. You know when all the shits gone, the highstink remains that right now iggy associates with statistic bimbettes - elle mcphaprh or kournix or whoever ur predictable speciality is- who live to catch and get all the glow- o frigging glow blow. Something's got to make just to all sometime. Think Iggy's going to positively ruin the sister's marriage. She loves the love and the stellar, positively FUCKING cosmic singularity she enjoys so very much like the paltry dick of your featherstuffed head. But in the f.a, you're too devious to figure out at once and you know at the end what matters at all is: you get the skin, the kick and seven black pits. the bleeding spleen straddling the drain grate you saw on mossie mossie street? - thats not a chicken's or an eid goat's - its all yours dicky. all yours.

Need sleep and a little death.
come slowly.
***
There was a cakecutting at office.
Was grateful for the food.
But when I heard they were 25.
Didnt feel too good.
***

the great saturday half at work with no one else inside but me and eurythmi

It's time for the compleat shtorie. Peel and salivate.
Skies: blue; your ass: spotted.