drunken blanketless sleep in a cold room+
sparse resting+cigarettes+allergies+asthma=negligence x circumstance=sick

my mom has been having ominous dreams of my death which has given rise to a strengthening consensus in my home that there is something terribly wrong with me. last night i was in my bed staring at the postcard of john cleese i have taped to the ceiling breathing laboredly and dwelling on the possibility of my death. i had actually just returned from my grandmas funeral so death is a hot topic in my brain. i fell asleep.

and woke up five hours later surrounded by the fog of death sentiment. and the morning dragged in that minor key.