"Fire is motion / Work is repetition / This is my document / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all defenses."

- Cap'N Jazz, "Oh Messy Life," Analphabetapolothology

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

too much of a good thing

i love soft, squishy things. i love pillows!

i sleep with many pillows, stacked up high and wedged into corners, pillows cushioning every possible hard spot, every vulnerable piece of furniture that i may potentially whack my head on in the stupor of sleep, spooning pillows, pillows on top of pillows.

but lately i've developed a slight fear of the sharp pointy ends of feathers, those that stuff my pillows and are molting all over my everywhere. i feel them poking me in the face, see the pointy tips poking out thru the pillowcase, see them sticking up from the carpet, menacing, threatening to poke me in the eye while i sleep and scratch my corneas.

this is such a depressing development in my growing neuroses, since i so relish burying my face in a nice soft pillow before i sleep...

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