Not enough sleep again leads to flakes of thoughts and realizations of sorts, but none complete in any way, which is quite frustrating, of course. The little water in the freezer tasted slightly flaky and light. It was almost as if it had been watered down, mixed, made into a theater version of itself. The headache in the morning is still the real deal, so maybe it was just the illusion of lightness after another oddly shoehorned day. A glass of real water in the morning should soften some of the effects. Colors look vibrant again. The air is cold. There are sounds from the street. The consciousness is coming back. Or so I hope. But it is not consciousness I am looking for right now, it is the ability to see a larger picture. Carrying a horse on my back is not right. The sunrises are longer, they last half a day almost, then the sunsets ease in, until the long cold nights blow those daring to be awake into their houses. Or maybe make them stay at the office? The Broadway sign is brightly illuminated now, and so is the building breath rising from the air conditioning on the Chase branch across the street. The tomato plant is now over 40 inches tall now. A giant living thing that smells unpleasant when touched and that has not produced anything but itself so far. Hmm. I do feel like we are somehow related. Except that the plant has a very clear vision of where it is going. Bold and wicked tomato plant. It is going to soon carry real fruit. I dream of floating balloons. I would love to just do that. Elevate a thin thought to become one of those clouds, somewhere over the city. Maybe many of those. Something that really can not be accomplished in the current contraption. Ugh. Crawled into bed again. The few hours of sleep I had given myself to recover were clearly not enough. I will watch today through a thick film of mental vaseline. Thoughts are all over the place... and oh yes... there were thoughts about an old story... yesterday, I think?