A cold night.
Snow is coating the ground outside, it's colder than hell, and I find myself possessed of a desperate sort of euphoria. I'm not really sure from where it sprang, but I can't seem to shake it.
I wander through the apartment, turning over things and thinking too much. If only I could really collect my thoughts into something that could make some sense. All I have now are garbled fragments, half-ideas that seem solid, but shatter as soon as I apply them to anything.
Music doesn't seem to help, which means this is something I'll have to push through on my own. Perhaps I'll figure something out. Or perhaps I'll simply sleep, and dream of memory fragment fairies.
I wander through the apartment, turning over things and thinking too much. If only I could really collect my thoughts into something that could make some sense. All I have now are garbled fragments, half-ideas that seem solid, but shatter as soon as I apply them to anything.
Music doesn't seem to help, which means this is something I'll have to push through on my own. Perhaps I'll figure something out. Or perhaps I'll simply sleep, and dream of memory fragment fairies.