Feb 9, 2012
it's cold here. something blew in from the north, they said, and then the wind went away. or it died. if you are the wind, how do you ever put anything down without first dying? i thought about dying on the way to work today. in my car, i am such an amalgamation of constructs. both social and physical. some people don't believe in evolution, but what stops me from being a monkey in a tin can hurtling west at sixty miles an hour? and isn't that really, really close to death? I dreamed like hitchcock's paintbrush last night. maybe i'll finish this book, in which hitchcock is one of the unifying elements introduced at the end. #re(tro)spect.