Ok, so I took a nap earlier this evening and when I woke up my DSL has been a weird monster of sputtering capability since. I can get onto Usenet but I can't check my mail, I can edit my blog apparently but I can't summon it to view. I have no clue why something that seems so simple and seamless in my life gets goofed up like this occassionally. I try to think but can't remember all of the things I used to do before I was online, I seem to recall drinking, but if that contained all of my time that I now spend wandering and writing about my experiences here on the internet then I'd probably be pickled by now.

I wish I could turn up the stereo and drag out my painting supplies, strip down and worship a canvas until dawn. That isn't possible either. I should probably go to sleep, but now that I've awoken I'm impressed with the stabbing pain of my headache. I don't see why people make a business of wondering why I don't share this with another person, who would want this? In another time I think I might be stuck in one of those gloriously creepy sanitariums full of silently huge Eastern European orderlies with caloused hands, strapped into burlap straight-jackets while doctors with mysterious germanic accents explained to me my unseen desire to bed my mother. While I'd deny it, of course, they would call nurses straight out of a high octane dominatrix flick to rub sickly aromatic petroleum jellies across my temples and send arcs of electricity through my brain until my hair began to burn and stink. While I gibbered they would wheel me down stained white tile and linoleum hallways only to strap me down safely with worn leather restraints, or else place me slack-jawed and drooling with the other inmates in front of the flickering image of the black and white television. Now, here, I make my own sanitariums of the soul. Late at night while everyone else is sleeping, and I can't read my email.