Marius and Sleep; two god-like forces, neither to be reckoned with. It is with the latter of them that I have often found myself surrendered to licentious disregard, carried off into the deeper shadows of my subconscious.
Yet my sleep is cut entirely too short, leaving me with the bitter taste of disorientation in my mouth. What I would not give to remain as I am in this libertine landscape of ambiguous imagery and dissolute surrealism, embraced in the warm and tingling tendrils of my mind's making.
Just one hour more.
Yet my sleep is cut entirely too short, leaving me with the bitter taste of disorientation in my mouth. What I would not give to remain as I am in this libertine landscape of ambiguous imagery and dissolute surrealism, embraced in the warm and tingling tendrils of my mind's making.
Just one hour more.
"’Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
"O, a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me!
Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan’d; which rais’d in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
"We are such stuff as dreams are made on,
rounded with a little sleep."
~ The Tempest - Shakespeare ~
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
"O, a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me!
Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan’d; which rais’d in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
"We are such stuff as dreams are made on,
rounded with a little sleep."
~ The Tempest - Shakespeare ~
