I've never felt more tired in my life. I'm probably sick but the cigarettes, coffee, sleep deprivation, pain meds and allergy pills are numbing all the symptoms except the tiredness and the delirium. I'm completely out of it.
Writing is a strange thing. In between the paragraphs I sit while a kaleidoscope of thoughts and memories - new, old, good, bad - run through my head. I do this until something interesting pops up. Then my thinking becomes purposeful and ordered. The vague thoughts/feelings become sentences. I revise until it becomes good. Then I go back to where I began and start the process again.
You don't often remember a time you almost died and laugh about it. I'm thinking about when I ODed on Tylenol. I had a real sense of humor about it as it happened. I was real witty when I was talking to the paramedic.
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