I am starving.
And yet I am relishing this feeling with a great delirious passion - a passion that is wholly inarticulate and incapable of being fettered into linguistic expression, but that fills me (ironic, I know) with a feeling of sublime passionate intensity; feeling my pulse gives me joy, as does a feeling of consciousness, feeling my blood pump through my body; an inarticulate yelping cry is all I can offer of this sublime joy that is lighting up my eyes... I'm aching for more of this empty barrenness, aching for more. My limbs feel tight and lean and yearn to stretch.
Perhaps, though, it is the opiates all beginning to take effect...
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