just like connect the dots.
i have approximately five minutes of battery time before my body collapses, and i'm utilizing this time to send a message from the cloud i'm currently floating on.
i would like to inform all of you, my beloved, that our people truly are out there, that clouds are just vanilla-flavored cotton candy, and that rachel and i slept on a bench in an empty train station last night.
(if an hour and a half of being constantly woken up by crazy fucking ghosts at three or four in the morning after you missed the last train back across the city constitutes sleeping.)
total hours sleep since nine am friday:five and one half.
fuck it, i'll write a real entry about tattoos and sara being beautiful at the airport and rachel arie brunet and brandon michael robinson owning atlanta and then subsequently getting our asses kicked by the same city some other time.
i can't think anymore.
oh yeah, and i'm hallucinating.
good night.
-mr. morton/boo-yah! the map man/whitney houston's mom/brandon
i would like to inform all of you, my beloved, that our people truly are out there, that clouds are just vanilla-flavored cotton candy, and that rachel and i slept on a bench in an empty train station last night.
(if an hour and a half of being constantly woken up by crazy fucking ghosts at three or four in the morning after you missed the last train back across the city constitutes sleeping.)
total hours sleep since nine am friday:five and one half.
fuck it, i'll write a real entry about tattoos and sara being beautiful at the airport and rachel arie brunet and brandon michael robinson owning atlanta and then subsequently getting our asses kicked by the same city some other time.
i can't think anymore.
oh yeah, and i'm hallucinating.
good night.
-mr. morton/boo-yah! the map man/whitney houston's mom/brandon