And I am dreaming in blood-red color
This morning I had nightmares so bad I had to look at my cellphone to see whether they'd happened. If it was Saturday, they hadn't; if it was Sunday, they had. It was Saturday, so I fell back asleep and dreamed I had tickets to a production of Julius Caesar that was about two-thirds the one Harriet Walter is currently starring in, but the events of the first nightmare had still happened. I am waiting for e-mails and worried about technology. I am sleeping hours less than I have since before Florida and dreaming badly when I do.
I need to write something.
I need to write something.

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"Pilgrim paths, green roads, drove roads, corpse roads, trods, leys, dykes, drongs, sarns, snickets—say the names of paths out loud and at speed and they become a poem or rite—holloways, bostles, shutes, driftways, lichways, ridings, halterpaths, cartways, carneys, causeways, herepaths."
Yeah, maybe.
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Nine