woke at 3 a.m. neck hurting, my glottal stop, texting laura about the crash. she texted back. we were both up, anxious about the crash and scared awake. i wasn't think i was scared of that but when she replied i remembered the other crash, with my brothers head making a convex spider web in the windshield and laura missing for eternal moments, folded unconscious under the back seat. after the license burro sent me home and fthe new minor crash i think i'm giving myself an underlined message about cars. funny that with all my negotiations with them on the street it's when i get in one i feel the most vulnerable and am crashed. so that old trauma is deep within us and explodes on impact into consciousness and joins with our general fear of the world. i say laura i'm not made for this world. in a world of cars, where do you go. you go in cars, or you hope they go around you. funny. each time i swallow i recall the impact.

three sides of a limestone block in one

a mood of her own. this little bitch is not sure she wants to know me. i last saw her in summer mood.

all the nobodies.

new buds.

cross-eyed and painless

earth was really dying.   david bowie

girl bite

girls

hang on to yourself.

yes he was all right, the band was all together.

i always talked adult to the kids but now i'm growing old with the dogs i sometimes get squeeky.

i am a gallery.

i must have the princess.

i was made to love magic.

trouble, oh trouble, please be kind. you're eating my heart away, and i haven't got a lot of time

i'm waiting for my man.

it only hurts

when i think of it

it was hard to tell the singer from the song, but i remember them like my own. (zoysia's memory channeled by me).

the world is the case, or things occur as they occur, while i continue to speculate on randomness.

lay the real thing on me.  david bowie

let them that have no sound hold the peace.

man, i ain't seed you since summa.

black and white ha's.

oh! you pretty things, don't you know you're drivin' your mothers and fathers insane. david bowie the beautiful

picture love

picture dirty love

pictures of love

pictures of love

pictures of love

princess devoura of the terrified voles.

i mo jump this princess bitch.

convoy

she happens to be in her i mo kick some ass mood but i think it's partly fun.

prehensile paws.

do you think we should stay the same?

spaceage daydream

straynge negotiations

the light always returns.

the men without leashes who love dogs.

thursday afternoon between eno and the moody blues.

we are all vibrant, we are all vibrant, we are all simulations.

we're not bound to understand, so we're not bound to misunderstand.

well i only look at the pictures myself.   david bowie as andy warhol.

you're not alone. cuz you're wonderful, cuz you're not alone.

zoysia, my darling.

postpost.
i'm an anachronism. this is not my world. i went along but i can't get along. in a world totally devoted and enslaved by cars, where do you go? to the mountains? i saw a film of people on a quest through the himilayas and they were terribly harassed by trucks. where do you go. my neck hurts, my neck is snapped my head is full of bruise.