my days have turned to foggy thoughts and speckled watsons. my digits long for the sensations that used to be. nausea creeps down my esophageal track like a cat burglar in the night, robbing me of whatever small amounts of nourishment i can keep down for the day. my bones ache and another speckled watson it is. i’ve become a goddamned norcoleptic. i wish i was a goddamn narcoleptic.