tales from an ordinary world

2002-03-27

It's black, sticky, and smells exactly like what it is - something from another century. Nevertheless I now have to put this coal tar on my fingers at night. My hands. My feet. I must bear responsibility for how I got here. My frivolous life. Or whatever it is.

In 3 to 4 weeks' time, I might start to see signs of progress, I'm told.