LONG LIVE THE NEW FLESH

I feel like my eyes are getting worse...I've been using my glasses more often lately. I usually only wear them a few hours of the day but it becomes a hassle taking them on and off so I just leave them on. It's weakening my eyes! Oh nooo...

To curb my boredom, my appetite, and give me more reason to not study shit (what? I don't have classes until Wednesday) my brain said "You're going to take every random ass dream you've ever had and write it out!"

"But I don't wanna!" I protested. "Some of that shit isn't fit for human consumption."

"Shiit, look at that dude that wrote Fight Club--Chuck Pala-whatsit. Do you think that guy gets any sleep?"

"...Noo...?"

"Alright then!"

So, I think the last piece of cult cinema I watched fully (not counting what I just finished, In the Realm of the Senses--it's barely "cult") was Videodrome, the Cronenberg film about how TV is going to kill us all eventually.

Unfortunately I think that movie broke my brain more than I would have liked and I've been slightly obsessed with what concepts I could garner from it. Aaaaand then I started writing. And then things got bizarre but I feel good about them. So two packs of dry ramen later I'm drooling in front of my laptop wondering A) why is my period late; B) where are my pants; and C) Vista makes funny chimes.

Hm, hm, hm...I'm also nursing something about a younger man falling for his ex-boyfriend's 60-something year old father and incest. Shit, why not these days? Get me the Sangria soda!