Since I absentmindedly left my absent mind, & more importantly, my camera's USB cord in the Batcave, here's a substitute shot of the pea soup currently engulfing -- hey look, someone conscientiously slowing down. Must not be a drunk punk kid returning home after a classy evening of binge drinking. Real men drink alone (at home) with nobody else whilst being up for 24+ you just assume it was something other than coffee & tea oscillation shows what you know Sherlock.
With the brain remaining elsewhere -- not that colossal a loss of mental faculties given that I didn't start out with many in the first place -- the pen had to rely on a hit or four of emotion & the attendant danger of emo overdose & dosing oneself to collapse into a blissfully unaware stupor is as effective as cold turkey though the former is a radical unproven theory shared by insomniacs & the latter's impossible though I did have a turkey sandwich (no mayo we're out) though that didn't stop the stomack from growling with gusto (hey I like that too) nor the man behind the mask from the same (I like that less so).
Man in the fog gonna put down that needle & have another pot, still sightless.