Caffeine courses through my
body. I can barely bare
being in my body, and to rip
out like a birthing chick
would be devine, but beyond
expectation. Don't even have a valium
on hand, but if I did, I wouldn't
get anything done. It would make
me feel like I was emersed in warm
water, a bath, an umbilical torqued
beneath my jawline, reducing
oxygen flow (floe). The
reds and the yellows at my
desk shimmer and this has
never happened but I am so
afraid that I may become sleepy
so I continue to drink the
stale black coffee at the kitchen
in the company I am writing from.
Companies must be fed. I am being
a bad worker bee-- I do not play
well with others-- I must be
good to the people with whom I work.
I'd rather be a Queen, sitting on my
ass and creating, popping them out--
or if a worker, like the termites in
Africa who build tall mounds with
deep dungeons and tall towers-- high
architectural myth if on par with us
would exceed 2 miles up, up, up and
away. My powerbook is in the shop and what
will
I
do
when I am on the
road in the mad dash to escape from feeding this crazy
cafinated beast here at 2000 15th Street North,
Suite 107, Arlington, VA 22201????
Across to Puerto Rico (is Old San Juan
the things of dreams or is it like the shimmering
fractals everywhere and the shimmering RGB of
newly ingested LSD?
I have many opinions on Huxley's reducing valve.
Old San Juan with its wrought iron, with its tangent
streets (not unlike mine) and then in my mind, the synapse
misfired and I forgot the train of thought-- the trainwreck
ADD.
How much is that doggy in the window?