Touch and Corner and Key

Notes from my days...

Out and about, swift and sure and unsafe at any speed. Miles in the sun and hot and happy. I shaved today, made biscuits yesterday. Talked and spoke on the phone for more than 30 minutes with more than one person I'm related to. By blood, I mean.

I'm related to all of you, here, aren't I?

Sat through a speech about bananas and not bananas that was surprisingly professional/convivial. Talked about my haircut, and its unfairness. I look forward to the parties tomorrow, for the graduates I know. I shook Steve Novick's hand today...not the claw, the other one. Caught up on my roof-and-head situation, played NERD my morlock, was drunk by noon. That's backwards, like Tim Roth or Merlin. Napped, not once, but twice. Listened to the sussurus. Bloody dictionary knows "Quetzalcoatl", but not "sussurus".

Punned and punned and punned some more. It's funny what functions and tactics remain as parts of my brain shut down from fatigue and ennui. I fully believe that I could pun my way through a coma. Also, the weird feint. With the "ei" twice. I do believe I've developed a theme here, without even meaning to.

Battle

It's not me versus the people on the other side, the people on the right, people who believe differently from me. Nope.

It's me versus the douchebags. The manipulative, the righteous, the aggressive, passive and otherwise. These guys, for example. I cannot believe some people's capacity for umbrage.

On a totally different note, please enjoy this...or not, depending on your sensibilities.

No News

Still up, still standing. Sitting, but standing. Better than I was, those of you who are in the know to my hard-to-find far-flung nooks and crannies. Most of my love to Josh, this week, who has more than enough on his plate than to drop everything on my behalf...except he did, and simultaneously surprised me, and confirmed everything about himself that is contained in the imaginary Platonic Josh that lives in my head, extrapolated from his file.

You all have files, by the way. Someday I may trepan myself, and give you all a look.

'Till then, clade, consider this your conduit, your bloody shunt into my forebrain. And it says, I'm OK. Thanks for all your help.

Zero Hour

I've gone right through the bad and out the other side. Really. I can see my house from here...and it looks like somebody lost their keys. More tomorrow, if I've still got fingers and a face. My aztec god's back for blood, and I'm no Quetzalcoatl(fucking dictionary's got "Quetzalcoatl" in it). Blurg.

Still warm, the blood that courses through my veins. Still drawing breath, still have suffering to take. Wish me luck, and check back later. Also, I can not figure this out. Let me know what you think.

She-Beared

Hiding in a Dead Whale

Worst day I've had in years. Really. A great collapsible nightmare of a day, origami-like in its unfolding moments of horror and regret. It may be I've hit bottom.

Sesquicentennial

Up. Up, and out. On the road as you read this, so imagine the keyboard and the steering wheel fused, like some outlandish modern appliance. Off to a weddding, three dddays with my family. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

If I don't come back, avenge my death.

One Thing, Then Another

We're all victims of causality, ain't we now. Feeling the pressure, lots of faces, very few names. I'm lyrical, but not poetical. Puns and poor aim, grey skies and secrets and strong work. If you listen, you might hear me sigh.

Check

Just for you, Verthandi.