Shorn

I own no bed or cooking ware or sheets or utensils or sofa or couch. I have books and bookshelves, and I'm not even sure I'm going to bring the shelves. I'll make my own shampoo and cleaning detergents as long as I remember which mixture of elements don't combust. These are my daydreams of frugality and I have incessant nightmares of disappointing and annoying and angering everyone I know or threw away. I am unable to wake up from their tisk-tisk. Waking myself up from nightmares is on my I-would-love-to-learn-that list--not to mention...isn't the point for it to go unmentioned? All I want is to drink sake and bourbon and moonshine. They move me. Unfortunately, I'm not drinking liquor, coffee, or any caffeinated drinks at the time so I could be chosen for a sleep study for $1,000. Waiting to see if they will select me resembles my version of Miss America. Will they pick me? Flossing makes me new. Every once in a while curly hair comes back. I keep going funny though nothing seemed funny today. I keep going wacko and nothing was funnily wacky today. Am I in someone else's landscape?