I'm in that dreamy, Loreena McKennitt inspired mood of mine (probably one of my real true moods where ""real"" Kirsten shines through) where all I want is to sit on a rooftop, balcony, whatever overlooking marvelous fields and such with you, doing some sort of dreamy sedativey substance [drinking, smoking opium (ultimate fantasy of mine, I'm seriously gonna grow poppies when I grow up and rid myself of this disease) or whatnot].

communicating without words, enjoying our chemicals and the world around us.

infinite.

and until then I'll keep my pills, my delusions, and my music to keep me going.