It's depressing and refreshing

to know that no (-t many) one will read this. It's like blogging to myself. Which is cool, I'm closest to myself after all.

So I said I'd be previewing my useless scribbles, and I should get on that. So here goes.

And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea-

What are all these kissings worth

If thou kiss not me?

What's that you say? This isn't my work? You're.. right. It's Percy Bysshe Shelley. Perhaps I'm a little shy? Oh, fuck it.

Sleep deprived
and sleep obsessed

sleep itself

I must confess

is like sweet love

such tenderness.

There. Happy? Just as unfinished as I warned you it would be.