So yesterday's bottle of wine drank to a two hour clip of summer night ambiance may not have been the best of ideas. Then again, I've had worse ones.

I dreamt that one of my exes drowned another one of my exes. This is getting funnier by the night. Sin tapas.

I dreamt that there's a giant moonshine distillery run entirely by anthropomorphic foxes in a cave complex located under Mt. Inari in Kyōto. A clear sign I went overboard with the tapas last night.

I dreamt today that I could detach and reattach my head from my body, Washington Irving style. It was pretty convenient, really. The deal-breaker was slight bleeding repeatedly causing collar stains and excessive need for doing laundry. Funnily enough I almost never wear collared shirts in real life.

Also, for the first time in I can't remember I woke up in light sleep, so I don't feel like a car hit me before I even got out of bed.

There it is again. The bad kind of nothing.

The dolphin knew he couldn't swim among the stars, though he refused to accept it.

Picking home-grown tomatoes straight from the bush, then reading about the multivectored anthropogenic apocalypse inevitably crawling towards us a couple hours later.