A state of apathy and fatigue has descended on the Beazley
Brain tonight – and the rest of him, come to that. It feels, insofar as I’m
capable of knowing such a thing, like the sort of weary calm that might follow
the breaking of a fever.
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Still took my nightly ramble, though, without any meandering
into the realm of dark imaginings. Maybe the Beazley Brain was too apathetic
and fatigued to bother. The only point of note was the fact that twice I
thought I heard a conversation being conducted a little way distant in the
darkness. It reminded me of the time I OD’d on some actors’ extra strong
cannabis, one night about seventeen years ago. I remember hearing similar
conversations when I walked home. They were always around the next corner,
until I went into my house and they followed me. The rest you wouldn’t want to
know. I’m only eternally grateful that I lived alone and there were no
witnesses.
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M’Lady S has gone AWOL again. It’s odd how easily you can
forget what a person looks like when you don’t see them for a while.
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Do you know what I find odd? The fact that some women go and
have things done to themselves in order to please their man. It would have
precisely the opposite effect on me.
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