sleep is for the weak and stupid

silly misguided mortals,
while you are snug in your blankets and sheets the true experiences of madness are waiting to be discovered! I have become a machine that empties beer cans and lights cigarettes.

my mental network is up and running perilously close to the red, so fast and furious are the thought streams that i am awash in, i have broken free of the speech-time continuum and am experiences things beyond the confines of language.

cigarettes burn way too fast, and leave so little, like these fleeting ephemeral thoughts that drive me to the limits of what can be considered insight, not that anything ever sticks here, it just passes through, filters off into the ambience and messes with my mind.

{hang on, I can't type for a minute, i've got to roll another cigarette, who says how many beers are too many beers for blogging, somebody ought to take a cigarette... i mean survey... hang on... really gotta roll me that smoke}

ahh yes, that first delightful inhale, like a spring breeze reminding the back of your throat how raw it is from all these deliberate excesses, and now i'm out of beer... hmm... six o' clock in the a.m. got a presentation to give in class tomorrow, time to switch to mountain dew?

{the finite jester would like to take this moment to urge all his readers to stay in school, and to do whatever it takes to survive the experience}

now what was i talking about...
oh yes of course, the ethereal nature of insight.. duh