This is the song, for now, that best illustrates a certain joy and frustration of mine. Of Montreal wrote and performed it, and I lived it:

AN ODE TO THE NOCTURNAL MUSE

I love to sleep
I love my bed
cause it brings strange dreams to me
and life's much better when I’m asleep I can see anything
don’t have to worry about anything

I know you love to sleep
you love your pillows
cause they bring sweet dreams to you
and life's much better when you’re asleep
you can do anything don’t have to fuss over anything

I can’t wait to be old growing senile together
holding hands and both completely out of our heads
We won’t notice when we’re dead
we’ll be too busy dreaming too busy dreaming
We’ll be too busy dreaming

Life's much better when you’re asleep
you can do anything don’t have to fuss over anything

Well there’s nothing quite as great
it’s my favorite mental state
subconscious stream of thought
creates avant garde films in my mind
and watching them is how I like to spend my time
I love to sleep I love my bed
cause it brings strange dreams to me
and life's much better when I’m asleep
I can do anything
don’t have to care about anything

I can’t wait to be old growing senile together
holding hands and both completely out of our heads
We won’t notice when we’re dead
we’ll be too busy dreaming too busy dreaming
We’ll be too busy dreaming
.....

Yep. I've written a lot lately, and I need to do art...but first perhaps some homework? Thanksgiving was pleasant, and messy, and frustrating, and interesting. I don't know how to describe it all. I wish things in my life were simpler. That the sun didn't set so early. That I didn't want to sleep more, even after 12 hours of it.

I'm up now. What do you want?

- fin -