10:48 a.m. - 2003-09-04
SO Sleepy.
Subsequent post-Burning M4n entries are trapped behind an epic psychic logjam due in part to bouts of fierce residual sleepiness and the sneaking self-awareness that I am tripping my ass off on showers, clean bedding, the sight of grocery store shelves, and--often times--nothing at all. I feel stoned, despite an inability to testify in a court of law as to what that might actually feel like.

So. When I've come down a little, I must help my travel diary find font and formatting here, as if it doesn't, my desert-mad handwriting will reach its Coherency Expiration Date-- swimming unintelligibly before my rehydrated eyes--and I will remember nothing about my summer life but the sensation of hot dry skin, the sight of neon pink faux-fur, and a curious, untraceable conviction that house music...is a spiritual thing.

...That can't be my idea.

Translation imminent.

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