Gross, dead, I speak to you from the nether plane

A band called Dead Ghosts

A band called Dead Ghosts

I Googled the phrase “dead ghost,” hoping to find an image that would express my physiological state, and I got this amazing blog post. That first sentence resists me, either because it is difficult to understand or because my cognition has been impaired by bacterial meningitis. My god, the things that come out of me. I can’t go five minutes without some loud biological emission, and my head feels like I’ve been chewing a tongue depressor. I am sick. My eyes don’t work right. The wheels are coming off and, as usual, the blog is the first to suffer. There is no blog today but my lament. I am like Job, only instead of patiently suffering I curse whatever force is behind this illness, be it God or that girl at the burrito place who looked like she had a cold. Pity me from afar.


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