nattrozanska

Logically, morally, empirically, it's too early in the morning for this. I still haven't finished my breakfast tea, clinging to the cup desperately with one hand, the other clasping sheets of stapled A4. My eyes ache with the strain to keep them open, focused on the small print. My mind, still dancing with the hazy images of last night's dream, tries to digest what is being presented. Hang on, what? I think I heard that right, understood it sufficiently, disagree fervently. Let battle commence. The limits of language become blindingly apparent, as we all stumble clumsily into the fray. We're taking on philosophers, hardened, battled warrior

'You alright?'