There is great beauty in me, and poetry, but also great sleaze and illicit thrills

There is great beauty in me, and poetry, but also great sleaze and illicit thrills. I am drawn to high classical beauty and then low disreputability. Sex and violins. The gutter has as much of a siren hold on me as the concert hall. It is like following a will’o’th’wisp through the swamp mist, lurching ever deeper into obfuscation & danger, blind to the people trying to pull you out. I have now gone 38 hours without sleep and I fear ever sleeping again. You cannot bear to close your eyes on such an unrewarding day so keep going until something rewards you. I never want to sleep again. I fight it, like Challenger fighting off the pterodactyls swooping on his head, like Alec fighting time.
lost
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