07.07.06

Just finished another assignment, handed the bastard in.

The stress was enough to drive me to drink, but since I already do I had to turn to chasing the dragon. Coleridge hooked me up, said I would see things with clarity of vision unparrelled; he forgot to explain about the somatic experience of travelling down caverns measureless to man, down to a sunlit sea. Though once there I was able to relax; sitting on the beach shucking oysters with a construction worker and his mate with a huge moustache and protruding teeth, well two of them anyway. At the end of the day apparently the time had come (the moustached one said) to speak of a multiplicity of things - something about sailing ships and sealing wax and a king who liked cabbage. Whilst he rambled and the remaining oysters attempted to escape I waded, and waded, and waded as indeed there was water everywhere and my board (shorts) began to shrink. But since there were a thousand thousand slimy things I had company and did not feel bad about throwing off my mortal coil and forgetting about raging against the dying of the light.


After that I need a vat of beer and carafe of whiskey.




The Grey Madness