flu flu flu flu flu flu flu fllll.
five hours in the hotel bed. my skin is flushed and clear, like a hot TB invalid. susan sontag. In the 19th century, tuberculosis was considered a disease of passion, of "inward burning," of the "consumption" of life force. Sufferers were thought to have superior sensibility; the illness purified them of the dross of everyday life. yes, yes, yes. except i only have a mean fever, and cannot get out from the bed. i slept for forever and had fantastic sex dreams. wikipedia. oh illness.
true things vs imagined things. Q: to what extent (regarding the future of the universe) can we trust one another at monthly meetings of self-proclaimed liars. A: i'm secretly so unbelievably angry over it all, like someone stepped on my drawing and left a foot mark. and now there is a stupid foot mark. and, excuse me, but i would like to go back to No Foot Mark, please.
what am i drawing. well, i am drawing a bunch of little girls with their right arms half popped off and goo and apple-worms shooting everywhere. apple cores allover the ground, because i am so ill. and fruit never helps. i don't really like apples.
yours, amanda L. at 6:15 PM [+] | |