May 11, 2020

I could tell when the fever receded from my subconscious. The hour before morning was again filled with the rich and random strangeness of whoever rules that realm, instead of the sickening, rhythmic, repetitive barrenness of the hallucinations. I wonder if it is a backstep that I have barely been able to get out of bed all day, exhausted, cold to my bones. It would help if spring were allowed to be spring.