|O sleeplessness, you bear the intoxicants of a Dionysian
wine! And though I abhor the long nights of work, the fatigue grants such
great power against the everydayness, the general reality, that consumes
the majority of a life. It also seems to revoke the greater part of writing
skills, as I'm sure is obvious. Once, after over fifty conscious hours,
I discerned as I thought, along the roadside, a flock of claymation sheep
very closely resembling those in the Wallace & Gromit film "A Close
Shave." I'm serious, it did happen.