Im hot but my boots are cold and wet. Didnt someone once say that if your feet are cold then the rest of you will be cold too? Don't ask where the science is in this, maybe its just a old wives' tale.
I can tell you what's not cold : my fingers. Amazingly, last night my resolve broke and 3 poems came pouring out on paper. It was purging like you havent had before. And I know how terribly pretentious writing poems sound , but you'll notice that Im not forcing them down anyone's throat (ok except that one time) they're mostly metaphors that are meaningful to me, like keeping a diary of what's going on.

Anyhoozle. I remembered something last night which had me in stitches a while ago:
My friend Michelle has this little cousin, he's about 7 or so, and naturally little kids rummage through things and cupboards, totally oblivious to the laws of property.
And he came upon some sanitary towel thingies, so he walks up to his sister with one in hand, asking what it is. Her eyes widened for a few moments before she decided against birds-n-bees talk , and so just said that they were "ghost patches" which you put on your head when you go to sleep so that ghosts dont frighten you. Satisfied with this answer, he went to put them back.

The next morning, he comes out from his room with two of these unravelled and stuck onto his eyelids, proclaiming, "I had the best sleep last night! No ghosts!"