Crazy stuff

How perfectly queer. I am rather pleased at what I wrote. I am writing to my friend Monikka now and I am listening to Adam singing one version of A Murder of One. That is a song that has always meant a lot to me and if you like it you should also read Bryan Talbot's One Bad Rat but I digress.

I keep feeling Danny here. What's more is I can see him and hear him. I keep looking up to where he is, in the corner of my bad eye, to tell him something. I can hear him singing to me. He doesn't want me to waste my life. Is he hanging on to me or am I hanging to him? All I know is my life is filled with spirits and ten million beautiful words.