Now is the time for bold experiments. Full fathom five. I have not slept for five nights and six days. This madness will end in one hour when the codeine mixes with the red wine and I fall into a drugged stupor. It is not sensible but my sense left me three days ago at the beginning of this madness. I will take all possible drastic action that does not lead to certain death.
I attempted to talk things over with my doctor but getting an appointment with a doctor in the Inner West is like winning the lottery. There are thousands of doctors out west just waiting to treat children with sniffles or any walk in patient at all but I'd rather boil my head than travel out to the suburbs. Just what are those people thinking living in neat rows and driving everywhere in cars. It is a kind madness wanting that life. I can understand the appeal of the mountains but only then if you live in some kind of mountain splendor. My mother's house is almost ideal with its large grounds, towering trees and proximity to decorous cliffs but that hasn't got anything to do with the drastic act of sleeping.
I don't care if I don't sleep but fall into some other sort of unconscious state. I desire only the absence of wakefulness be it the green faerie or some other kind of beast. I have been researching the idea of bohemia. There is something powerful lurking under my notes and scrawlings I just need sleep to work out what it is. I've lined up my next set of interviews with frontmen from Syndey bands. They're a flighty lot these singers and songwriters. They walk the streets constantly wearing cardigans and jackets. They stand differently, walk differently, talk differently from the rest of the population. I wonder what came first, the limelight or the difference? I hope one day to find out but for now it's time to hit the shower before I turn into my own personal Elvis or hit my head on the tiles and turn The Peach into a crime scene.
I attempted to talk things over with my doctor but getting an appointment with a doctor in the Inner West is like winning the lottery. There are thousands of doctors out west just waiting to treat children with sniffles or any walk in patient at all but I'd rather boil my head than travel out to the suburbs. Just what are those people thinking living in neat rows and driving everywhere in cars. It is a kind madness wanting that life. I can understand the appeal of the mountains but only then if you live in some kind of mountain splendor. My mother's house is almost ideal with its large grounds, towering trees and proximity to decorous cliffs but that hasn't got anything to do with the drastic act of sleeping.
I don't care if I don't sleep but fall into some other sort of unconscious state. I desire only the absence of wakefulness be it the green faerie or some other kind of beast. I have been researching the idea of bohemia. There is something powerful lurking under my notes and scrawlings I just need sleep to work out what it is. I've lined up my next set of interviews with frontmen from Syndey bands. They're a flighty lot these singers and songwriters. They walk the streets constantly wearing cardigans and jackets. They stand differently, walk differently, talk differently from the rest of the population. I wonder what came first, the limelight or the difference? I hope one day to find out but for now it's time to hit the shower before I turn into my own personal Elvis or hit my head on the tiles and turn The Peach into a crime scene.
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