A condemnation of masturbation: “Not permanent enough.”
Everyone, everywhere, could be improved by blindness. The terror of permanent darkness would make seeing people more sensitive. The castrations can wait.
There’s no such thing as ghosts – so let’s make some for real. Once they exist, we should destroy the planet in a nuclear holocaust to create an endless twilight realm unlimited by biological needs.
Stay up all night and go swimming alone at the beach just before sun-up. Yes, it’s quiet, serene, and mysterious – but, besides the parochial beauty, there’s no other people so you can scream, howl, laugh like a maniac and thrash about wildly without fear of disturbance for seeming like a madman or sea monster.
Once, while walking home from a friend’s house late at night in a mini-skirt, I had a car follow after me. I thought I was being targeted by a serial killer and fled back to my friend. She explained the guy thought I was a prostitute. Actually, I was a boy.
My local grocer used to be open 24-7. I liked shopping for smoothy fruit at 2 am while wearing my big wooly wizard robe. An important flavor has been lost from my life since they started closing at 11 pm.
It always seems like night in science fiction shows set in space. It feels strange that the universe never turns that bright, azure blue.
I used to think I drew better just after bed time. It must have been that this was when I had the least sleeping pills sedating me.
I lose track of time while programming. And reality. And my project goals. I frankly have no idea what the hell I’m doing or where my mind goes. But, I figure, anywhere but here.
I understand that there are people, times, and places where there’s something called a night life. I think it’s a natural phenomenon created by too much money, time, and energy. It’s rather mysterious.
During the day we worry about being shat on by birds. Why don’t we worry about being shat on by bats during the night?
I attended this six session cognitive behavior therapy course over several weeks. It was like going to school for sleepiness. Mostly, I doodled a lot of pictures.
I think the moon’s overrated as a beautiful thing. Lakes, rivers, and seas are much nicer at night, especially if there are a lot of lamp posts on.
If the Tsurezuregusa’s the boy version and the Pillow Book’s the girl version, what would a ladyboy have written? These are the kinds of questions historians ought to be answering.
When I was a child, I used to have pet rats. I bought a male and female and they had two litters. If I wasn’t so desperately poor, I’d probably want another pile of them to cover myself with.
Suicide always seems like a night-time activity, but I don’t think it is. I think suicide’s an anywhere-anytime sort of thing.
I believe in opposition to my friends that Christmas is a better holiday than Halloween – I have to admit it’s a shame though that the longest, darkest, winter nights are little noticed because of it. There really needs to be more yuletide witchcraft.
There’s just something about earthworms…
I hate when I get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and discover I need to take a shit. It’s an inconvenience and I have a phobia against poo. In a perfect world, our butts would only be to have sex with.
The first thing I do in the morning is the dishes. I’m sorry, that’s not very interesting. It’s a shame the night has to end on that kind of note.