It's cold.

My bones feel creaky. I think it's that way every November, but still.

I have a couple of things to fix my apatite.

Basking in the reflected glow of these markers helped me transform electromagnetic waves into hours-of-sleep, and find my inner diplomat.

Hour-long discussions of font sizes and helvetica as if it were a badly behaving boyfriend, make it hard to find shiny words where just one could do. I got vocal evidence of my worn veneers: "I like the words you chose." If only I had a pocket-sized machine to restring my words after they're spooled in that middle dimension where they're almost said.

Words should be replaced. Or at be unspeakable after n times per week. Lets downsize.

Should take heed from our cat Cookie (aged eight); we always thought she couldn't miaow. She was recently locked in my brother's room for days until she decided to let us know. My mum was worried, I told her she'd gone exploring. Now I know she's probably the founder of oumiaowpo or something (wikipedia stub forthcoming.)

Anyway, on the weekends I have a sonic bed to alleviate my rising temperature: Kaffe's made this bed. It can fit up to six people, or just one (making a star shape). Midi triggers are triggered by a camera that takes notes. The sounds travel across and under you, (sometimes rattling inside) and lights flicker across the ceiling's roof window. I spend my lunch break in it; there are 5 different modes.

That's where I should just say: bed and show:

Friday 25/11 and 16/12 at the SLG Kaffe will be tuning the bed to visitors' particular requirements, in a "personal feedback session" entitled 'on the bed.'


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