Last Resort

Transmitter wrote this terribly early in the morning:

Alright. I’m back. That whole sleep thing is harder than it looks. I’ve now resorted to listening to the Cocteau Twins. I haven’t listened to this album in a very long time and it’s bringing back memories. Fond, but sad memories. I’m hoping that sleep is associated with some of those memories.

In Light of this New Evidence

Transmitter wrote this terribly early in the morning:

At first I shrugged off Twitter, thinking it was some ridiculous distraction for people too simple-minded to write/maintain a blog. Well, given my neglect of my own public space, I joined Twitter. Now it’s down for maintenance and I find myself missing it. Pathetic. A lesson in being opinionated maybe. I think I’ll always be caustic about something though…

Anyway, here is what I wanted to post to Twitter (more verbose and “bloggy” though, of course):

I just got out of the new batman movie, Dark Knight. Holy crap! Heath Ledger as the Joker was amazing. He made the entire movie. Not that this should surprise anyone.

Now I’m sitting at home, listening to Abbey Road, and trying to coax myself to fall asleep. I think that if I walk away from the internet, it will help. So, farewell for now…


Transmitter wrote this in the wee hours:

He’d been on a plane all day and she needed to get him clean.

She put me in the bath with my underwear on. I had drawing pens in my pants. The ink mixed with the water and swirled in inky clouds – a pocket full of plastic squids. She came back to check on me. The squids’ black discharge upset her. She couldn’t clean it up, so she washed my mouth out with soap. My mouth wasn’t dirty. She was the one screaming. It didn’t bother me. I wrapped my head in bubbles from my mouth. Pop. Pop. Pop. Hippity. Hippity. Hop. I skip naked out of the bathroom.

My smudged footprints gave me up. She found me in my cabinet fort. I should have known better than to trust the cleaning supplies to keep me hidden.