synesthesia


damned if i know.

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Friday, February 28, 2003
 
I have two popped taste buds. I can feel the insanity preparing itself to come on.

I don't know if the insomnia aid is working, but I continue to tell myself it is, and I think I believe myself, which, I think, means it's working.

My MP3 player has pretty much the most remedial randomiser I have ever seen. This has lead to the fact that I now refuse to listen to anything other than Suicide Commando's Hellraiser, Velvet Acid Christ's Decypher, Apoptygma Berzerk's End of the World or Sasha's Xpander. Everything else gets skipped until I know one of those is coming. I have something like one hundred and twenty songs on that CD. I like all of them.

The lightbulb in my bedroom went out again today. Third one this month. Surprisingly, I've managed to read my work schedule in the dark. Yay for cultivating skills.

I went to Christine's housewarming party today, which was cool, even though I knew virtually no one. This restores my faith. Also, I got my mortar and pestle back. This means I am no longer required to get creative when I want to make more chai. Cheers.



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