Bedridden mostly for the last 24 hours, sinking into and re-emerging occasionally from a feverish flu, I finally, at this very moment, have collected enough wit, energy, and clarity to compose a thought.

And that was it.

Visions.  The flu wracks the hell out of my body but almost always provides me with hallucinogenic visions.  So I find myself slipping between ‘reality’, lucid dreaming, and a fevered frolic.  I have been stomping on huge bugs that scream ‘motherfucker’ as I crush them to death.  I have been climbing a mountain where I could only see the single patch of dirt beneath my feet—nothing prior and nothing ahead except for deluding fog.  I was wirelessly drawing upon the internet without the intermediacy of a PC or communication device whatsoever.  There were a thousand conversations enjoined—but with whom?  There was someone who was lost, there was someone else who knew that I was lost, and then there were all the nondescript other characters just wandering into and out of a tête-à-tête. Someone informed me that the faerie Death was waiting just over a hill on the right.  But I didn’t explore that hill, I just sunk deeper and deeper UP my mountain until I ran out of earth and awoke.  Here.  But where in all of altered consciousness is ‘here’ ?