The season of yule is nearly upon us. 3 more days until the x-mas season, and I couldn't be more terrified.
Hideous storms are upon us, this isn't a nice, pleasant rain, this is some kind of weird, destructive washing of the earth. This is a good night for contemplating what the norse called "ragnarok".
As the schedule of the weird continues to take it's toll on my increasingly fragile constitution my dreams are becoming weirder and weirder. If you dear reader, think what I write on this journal is disturbing, you should share the images that wake me up screaming.
Last night was a combination of cocaine, clowns, and high speed cars. There were screaming senior citizens, and flames licking out everywhere. I'm not one for Jungian analysis of my dreams, but surely this can't be a good sign.
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