"Winter Killing" - Stina Nordenstam

There is something about fevers that makes you feel like a poet. Some broken-down, but prophetic, poet. It's akin to being high, I think. And as I shuffle through my iTunes playlist, I'm noticing that tracks I previously ranked as "two stars" sound entirely different to my germ-saturated, mucus-filled mind. (I originally wrote "mucus-filled ears," but decided that was too gross.)

"Take Pills" - Panda Bear

Passing thought: I like how the British say "having it off." I also like the old saying that you want to "make it" with someone. I've recently begun employing both of these saying in my ordinary lexicon.

"Put Us Back Together" - Headlights

The nose blows. The head throbs. The annoying pleasures of the body, right Walt?

Swift wind! Space! My soul! Now I know it is true what I guessed at;
What I guessed when I loafed on the grass,
What I guessed while I lay alone in my bed...and again as I walked the beach under the paling stars of the morning.

My ties and ballasts leave me...I travel...I sail...my elbows rest in the sea-gaps,

I skirt the sierras...my palms cover continents,
I am afoot with my vision.

- Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, Leaves of Grass

"Futures" - Zero 7 

On Saturday night, during the low point in this battle, I awoke at around 3:30am hearing music in my ears. I was hot to the touch, but cold. And there was this music. This eerie, Walmart-themed music. I thought to myself, "Clearly, I'm hallucinating, because there is no way that creepy Walmart music is somehow playing in my apartment right now." Feverish enough to hallucinate, but lucid enough to know it. I fell back asleep moments later, and dreamt of evil corporations, throngs of registered nurses and angry protest signs.

 "Who Scared You" - The Doors