table of contents

there is a quarter a closthepin a angel and some nail clippers on the cd on the table

The banner in front of the church lost half of it's support last night. I went by right when it got dark and it was all up, bannering. Then later, on my way back, half of it was loose and it was folded over itself in the wind.

The more I look around on the webpages around here the more impressed I become with what is going on right now. People out in the world, spread out, are writing so well. And everybody is similar in the thrust of nothingness and emptiness and unsure. And there is lovely images out there and so many styles. It is more hidden then the gamer cults because there is less money involved. And there is more cammo involved with the writing world out there.

I don't really know. There isn't that much around right now. It has been empty around here lately. I am looking around and ready to jump in everybodies lap. It's alright. I like the way things are going. I like that things go without any effort from me. I like effortless. I forget that, I love the ease. No problems, even when there is problems. And no detatchment. Fuck detatchment. That shit is like a small berlin wall that no one outside imposes. This is my church. The internet isn't my church. You are my church. Pardon me, but you are my church and I like to tell you that. I sit in chairs alone in a room and think about you with empty cups around me. All of you. That is one way I think about myself, by thinking about you and us. This isn't romantic, really, I mean it straightforward. I am like velco, because I come undone when things get heavy. I am ripped down and pinned to the sidewalk. But I return. I promise I return and I am glowing for you.

I have been changing my shirts alot. It may be because of the season change but it could be related to some kind of pathetic way I tell myself I'm lonely. I don't know. I don't mind being lonely, but this doesn't keep me from the motions of my underneath letting me know I am lonely. Some things taste good.

There is alot of room in my room now. Outside my room there is a bush touching the path that leads to the garage. It is not my garage. Someone else has all access to it. People may have been hammering gutters on the garage the last week or so while I was sleeping.

The grey person returns home to find the kitten has turned into a catperson.