from three to two hundred twenty two views oh i'm so ashameded, i exist! why can't i figure anything out! why so muddled all the time, and hectoring too! why fatuous and humiliated! i'm sorry, i really oh i wish i could undo this, should have become something, and what did i do, wasted your time, no i lie, i'm a weirdo, histrionic, why do i insist on being a fool.
anyway, i've been to the lost and found, and it's cosmic.



(and ukraine, the motherland, totally abandoned me, it's like any club i would join wouldn't have me, in fact they would evanesce before even existing with the possibility that i might join, oh my god, i'm insane, no wonder ukraine hates me, good riddance to me and my wretched ancestors, who fled and abandoned ukraine just because of a little fire, for god's sake whose god what god.)


i don't blame you ukraine, i don't even blame my good neighbors. i blame myself  whose self what self.

the notion of walking away and disappearing is tantalizing. in the movie Sacrifice dude goes nuts and torches his dacha or house and plants a tree that's dead and says monks burned up everything every five years and just boogied on. but how does one do that? clearly he dint know and they hauled his away to the loony bin, well that's kind like america for me, ncept i was born here and my relatives got burned and then chose disappearance, but they just became big phonies in america, land of the phonies where you disappear by not being that which you were, history, and oh so blithely fitting in.