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no coffee yet.

I had something I needed to do, but I forgot.

Alabama 3.

My Pandora station "Lunatic Dances" is supposed to also include music that would have been on my late iTunes playlist "Wake the Fuck Up, Lunatic".

Oh, right. Essays. I need to write myself random essays about those moments where I'm not sure exactly where the fuck my brain is, but it's somewhere strange.

When my hair is half-damp, it brushes out so nice and straight. When it is dryer than that, it curls and tangles. Gee.

I'm not at the top of my game in the first few hours after I wake up. I'm best for learning things and getting random input and random uncensored things right now, not putting out keen and honed stuff.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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