022503flowerThis is the Ice­box kitchen as it appeared at 1:50pm EST.
For per­spec­tive, check out the flow­ers as they were.

It seemed a con­gru­ous visual metaphor for my phys­i­cal state right now (well, save for the dead part). Can’t keep any­thing down, can’t keep any­thing in, wear­ing down the floor­boards between the bed­room and the bath­room. Yii­i­ipppeeeee. The fever’s com­ing on…the tin­gling heat, the fuzzy out­lines, the lucid­ity (yes, like Queen­sryche). Hands are cold, feet are siz­zling, and hair hangs like good Span­ish moss … you see me through the desert haze … my head is filled with warm gauze … I project the sore upon the body electric .…

Huh?