At times like this, I don't bother to read what happened earlier.
Are you leaving soon?
when open pits of gibbering sludge do gyre and burble on the page
and vasty deeps of pimpleworts wave foul exuberances in their mad ehortations
then and only then will the One become Several, and the Myriad Myrmidons pale into the mist...
in other words: I'm so tired I'm getting pretty smegging wierd in my head, and shall perfoce retire anon