read the unfortunates last night after hearing mouse. my left carotid artery was pulsing like a lizard. i thought about a memory ford, with the poston girls and the dunn girls, us all naked, ecstatic children. the wish i have to write like that, like a mind thinking like a child in a stream, like an adult going nowhere in mind. but it gets terrified, even in the neighborhood, the good neighbors, their terror machines, and hides in the quotidien? ok terror can't be sustained, and then what? we go back to sleep without sleep.