more coherent than could have been predicted

its one am again. i refuse to drop. refuse to let my lids flap. its just getting that that point of the night where its so silent i can hear my house talk. it doesnt have much to say, its prolly just sleep talking like i do.d none of that monster house business for me. though closing eyes seems to make typing easier and the screen brighter, worth it.
are any of you still out there? its been a month since even i posted last. and another month before that.! It looked like someone thought of trying this out agan but gave in to something else. Its so quiet here. now. the air stale. the voices silenced. raw percussion reverbarates down these moist walls. goosebumps. I can feel my hair. and i know when i open my eyes again it will all be in 2d again. but all i want to see are the famouse ladies like on the big screen. and the natural waterfalls with a good stiff breeze and no bugs. and I want to smell something warm and freshly baked, at a cafe or some other place where the hipsters lay claim. main street tomorrow then it seems. if only mother sould stop cryingm we'd all be happier with being outside. and like my eyes, my conciousness is glazing over. the back of my eyelids are getting flatter. and my hands are stumbling more. goodnight to whomeer may still read.