Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Unfocussed musings

I cannot write of opium tonight. It is draining to tell one's whole story over the course of a week. A young girl I met on the Internet told me that blogging was very therapeutic. I cannot say I feel the same. For me it is draining and I have developed a craving for opium. In many ways I had forgotten how I had killed beauty until I rehashed the details of my horrific dream. Alas, let us speak of things mundane (though this will only kill Her more).

First of all, perhaps you, dear reader, have noticed my orthography is not typically British. Well, I am a bit rebellious in terms of spelling. I half-prefer the American spellings of Webster but will never wholly identify myself with that obese but good-enough-in-theory nation. So I pick and choose between the British and American spellings. I believe it is similar to the Canadian orthography, though this is pure coincidence (a hockey-skate has never graced my foot and I am too much of a nudist to be from somewhere so cold). So that is that.

Well, look at me, a bibliophile at a loss for words. I shall floss then slumber. Hopefully soon I will be back in form. I worry sometimes I have lost "it." Drat!

Helga! Fetch me my dental equipment and make me my bed! Come lie with me if you wish.

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