tags: patheticness as an art form

There are certain parts of the year that seem to get me down. That perception may simply be apophenia. A meaningless confluence of stimuli that cause me to believe there is some sort of pattern. Like listening for voices on blank cassette tapes. Or seeing the image of the Virgin Mary on a scrap of tree bark.

It was probably poor planning to drink coffee at 9 p.m. and expect to be able to sleep.

mahiwaga