access/words/poetica:

scan in the cold light of the scan you look like a halloween monster i roll over and try to force the image from my mind... i dream of computers and am glad to wake up til i see you slumped in the land of one too many and i realise you're probably not dreaming at all. maybe that's better.

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reading pictures 7 (the goat has escaped) 'the goat has escaped!' i cry 'it doesn't really matter' you reply beatific in the face of my survivalism

creative suicide so after much deliberation i decided the the most creative way to commit suicide would be to drink wine boxes until you had enough empty that when filled with helium would lift your weight into the stratosphere where you would freeze to death. and after drinking the first wine box and inhailing helium all afternoon things seemed to matter a lot less so i decided not to float to my death after all. the remaining 26 wine boxes and a large cylinder of helium are bound to come in useful for something.

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