Friday, November 28, 2008
If I could perpetrate lucidity, I would be joyful beyond my ability to calculate. I would consent to be interviewed by the stars of the midnight sky. I would compose immortal odes to Cynthia. I would recover the losses of eighteen years ago. I would be embarrassingly precise, especially about birthdays. I would make the mystics blush. I would find the perpendicular bisector of the segment connecting contemplation and distraction. I would search for my favorite season. Nameless angels would impinge upon my terrible hours of leisure. I would be thankful for three nights of imprisonment. I would grab the nearest Muse and wrestle her to ecstasy. I would broadcast several episodes of wonder. I would praise the braids of an arcane temptress. Sleep would bring dreams of a distant dormitory, the perfect emporium of bliss.