Saturday, March 24, 2007
if I've only slept for 20 minutes in the last 3 days of finals. Post delirium has overthrown my mind into a lucid dream. My machine has legs as my hands move robotically... "don't let it run away wit chu," says Ms. Fisher to my temporal lobe. My robot is becoming immaculately punctual as the needle pierces repeatedly through opulent cloth. The sky escapes darkness as I plead of time to be more munificent. Is it that time is never on my side? No. Never say never. I have no sides.