3am blabberings

Been working on Crap.
James Blunt drills holes in my ventricles with his falsetto.
I'm tinkering with my poetry to avoid writing the play.
The sweep of 12 scenes is done thank fuck, now it's round two - assembly.
Too much coffee in my system.
My all nighter push has been real feeble - 1 lousy scene transferred.
Priya just said at some point in the scene - "Memories. The things that linger on when things die."
What the fuck's that supposed to mean?
Trying desperately to move from mechanics to soul.
This will sound dumb in the morning, and I am not even drunk.
I'll continue prodding my emotional memory with a divider.