of Montreal - Death isn’t a Parallel Move
so I’m doing time in John Fawkner, as I’m pretty sure I’ve caught that steampunk zombie plague.
sorry I’ve worried people. so bored = must tumblr. I’m mostly okay, but also virus-gone-wild. and IV-4-LYF (or 4-tonight). I’m dehydrated and have some virus they haven’t been able to diagnose yet. I have all the pains, and I’d hate any of you to see the hives all over my face … but I don’t seem to be dying, or to need cutting open.
the worst is that this hospital doesn’t treat with magic OR vampire blood (so middle ages). and that I have to be around Other People.
hugs, in thought (and from a safe distance) xo
guess who spent all day in hospital? … I did!
and with my twin (who is also my hero).
words have been slow, and absent
or not even
ideas are sticky: a pastiche of desire that I am unable to assemble.
… so I’ve been crying less. but I’m adjusting to new meds like that arc in a hungover morning (which is actually the afternoon), when you crave some kind of sustenance which couldn’t possibly be food (because: your stomach) and is probably ‘life’, and so you eat hash browns.
not in an overwhelming way. just … I don’t get most things done. and, like, I hardly care.
I’ve feathers and sequins and a few good friends and, when my nails are dry, I can crawl back into bed and listen to Lou Reed until sometime later tonight. when Will and I are going into public to dudewatch and be awesome.
mad mad eight way vitamin attack
when I was all teenagery and way into Franz Ferdinand, I read an interview with Alex Kapranos. he talked about being ill on tour and the logic that led him to consume an entire bottle of multi-vitamins in one go. because they are healthy. so lots are really healthy. this right here.