The equivalent of drunk-dialing. Semi-somnabulistic blogging

I went to sleep at 10:30pm last night, and was awake again at 12:30. I wasn’t able to sleep again until four am. I was half an hour late for my nine o’clock meeting this morning.
I have been semi-catatonic all morning. It’s one-oh-five now and my thoughts are still scattered and wild. I don’t know where they are going and don’t care. I want to sleep.
Among those thoughts are random snatches of song. Not the whole song. Just a line or two.
Streetsider decided to just blog the way writers are supposed to– pure art for arts sake etc, and so he started it, this business of just spilling guts instead of the usual, proper way of doing things, where we don tuxedos, wait for the lights, then stride onto the stage to deliver a practiced routine deliberately designed to make  you laugh.
And Rhino had something to do with this, too. He started it. Just writing long song lists for kigafla. He doesn’t do the tuxedo.
I am convinced that Rhino is what happened when God, after I disappointed him, decided to try again with another dude.
The Insomniac’s playlist
Morning: “Joseph’s Face was black as night. The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes.”
That’s two posts in a row to freak you out.
11.something. “Here we are now, entertain us.”
12.00 “I am 32 flavours and then some. Taking my chances as they come. 32 flavours and then some. Looking for truth but there is none.”
12 close to one, when I snuck off to try and get a powernap in my car:  “I am a child of fire, I have desires. And I was born inside the sun this morning.”

I went to sleep at 10:30pm last night, and was awake again at 12:30. I wasn’t able to sleep again until four am. I was half an hour late for my nine o’clock meeting this morning.

I have been semi-catatonic all morning. It’s one-oh-five now and my thoughts are still scattered and wild. I don’t know where they are going and don’t care. I want to sleep.

Among those thoughts are random snatches of song. Not the whole song. Just a line or two.

Streetsider decided to just blog the way writers are supposed to– pure art for arts sake etc, and so he started it, this business of just spilling guts instead of the usual, proper way of doing things, where we don tuxedos, wait for the lights, then stride onto the stage to deliver a practiced routine deliberately designed to make  you laugh.

And Rhino had something to do with this, too. He started it. Just writing long song lists for kigafla. He doesn’t do the tuxedo.

I am convinced that Rhino is what happened when God, after I disappointed him, decided to try again with another dude.

The Insomniac’s playlist

Morning: “Joseph’s Face was black as night. The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes.”

11.something. “Here we are now, entertain us.”

12.00 “I am 32 flavours and then some. Taking my chances as they come. 32 flavours and then some. Looking for truth but there is none.”

12 close to one, when I snuck off to try and get a powernap in my car:  “I am a child of fire, I have desires. And I was born inside the sun this morning.”

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9 thoughts on “The equivalent of drunk-dialing. Semi-somnabulistic blogging

  1. kale it’s so not the equivalent. alot of times, the morning after the drunk dial is full of regrets and kicking yourself but i am sure you won’t regret this post!

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