there's a lot of shit to worry about gnome sane but most of the time i worry about myself i gotta admit it starts there now i worry about mister now i been to the free clinic and i got fluconozole yeah i worry some about that too but i gots to knock this fuckin' fungus silly gnome sane pray for my kidney and liver but mister he was stiff and limpy i noted when we started up the ramp on spider bridge and i turned him around maybe it's the nut crackin' cold as r puts it i hope he's not giving out i feel bottomless when i think that i have to watch my mind from hurtling i go to the worser case and then vacillate to the merest placebo there must be a golden mean in all this somewhere i know it's mister (maybe me and r and mister, but then it keeps expanding and more and more come into the golden mean it's not exclusive this thing right maybe ones we don't even consciously know like benevolent strangers angels and so) and he might go lame and there i go again i can't worry about him 'thout worryin' bout me r needs me too to remember i need to get well growup and take care of her sometimes too pshew.