a few hours and i was ovverdrugged; and convinced, almost, that i liked it. riding circle for circle along the river, four years ago was a romantic time. the night itself, dewy, i think, setting the mood for the hours to come, sleepy dreams of idon'tknowwhat, completely unremarkable except that now i know my brain. not sure if i have a bad attitude, i wonder if i need to apologize. and although i could have slept more hours, the sleepy part of the night seemed lost, and i woke myself up, eventually. more dreams, coming through, mundane but notable, and you whimpered again, at what?