Sleep is for wimps

I haven't slept in days... weeks even. Its a blur. But thats OK.

The precious is lookin after me. It keeps me going. With its energising drinks. The precious is goooood.

A manky monkey man tried to take it away from me. He did covet its shinyness.

I beat him with it. I beat him till the precious was shiny and red with monkeyblood.

Bad monkey. I went to the stream to wash the blood and monkey giblets from my face. My reflection didn't look like me. Huge eyes... red rimmed... insane grin/grimace...hair out of place. The precious likes it. The precious gave me more precious drink.


Every time I hear the crack of a hairyball falling from a tree and landing on the ground I dive for the bushes screamin SNIPER!. I don't know why. What is a sniper?... i seem to be wound up fairly tight. The precious tells me thats its good to twitch like this and talk to rocks incessently.

The precious also tells me that I must climb the mountain. The smoking mountain. I will do as the precious says. After I comb my hair. I shall climb the mountain.