Now deadly serious.

It's time for a death of desire.

Some call it embracing nothingness.

Others call it tendering notions of dissolution.

Still others, forgoing the indulgence of sensuosity.

I call it lean.   I call it thinner.  Yes, Stephen King.  And the death of desire.

Breathe.  And breathe deeply. 

As if the air has all the vitamins. 

As if the air has all the nutrients.

As if one will never breathe again.

It's never too early to rehearse.

(now exhale)  ...as if

the damn prayer is done

and thank God

amen.

*sticks a thermometer into xanga*

hrm...it seems I can post pics again.

*takes a blood pressure reading*

wow, the *search* feature is working--that hasn't worked for over a month.

*attaches electrodes for an EKG*

omg, I've been deluged by a hoard of email posts that were queued for over a week...so that's working again!

*sticks a finger into the darkness to check for a hernia*

o shit, no site data for the week yet.  so were not yet quite out of the gully...

prognosis: the patient will live...but only if you send lavish get-well gifts c/o notforprophet