Because April 16, 2012Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, Fortin Street, The Narrative, Toulouse Street.
Because some days you manage to give a shit for maybe two minutes. Then you wipe, wash, ignore the automatic coffee and go back to bed.
Because the beer. Because the hour. Because both pillows. Because the moon.
Because the morning laptop epileptic aura glares in the brain, the want to swallow your tongue, to vanish in a magician’s shower of sparks.
Because sometimes insanity is the best defense.