skip if you dislike the dull thoughts of a depressive in winter. two dogs cancelled today and i cancelled a third, my love mister. i was just thinking the only people who look at me are dogs. the humans i associate with are mostly not there. their dogs are, so that's natural. i finished neil young's new memoir about cars and dogs, mostly cars, too much cars and too little dogs, he was warmer about his machines, and there are warehuses full, than his dogs, but he did a lot of drugs, and fame fucks with your head too. he seems to still believe in some romance about the american dream in cars, though at least he's retrofitting them, too late. lts of drugs and women, and houses in paradise. ah well i'm here in chicago, without a single car to my name nor license to drive it. and i feel on my laptop off my bike on cornell. i'm a rambler stuck in the ice. to the pictures. damn, there was more gist that didnt reach the mill. ah me..

ain't no blues like winter blues

all the animals were having ecstatic vision

all this time we didn't know what to do with this life

leantime

any house'll do please.

ay aych

becomebecome

bug

but we were always hungry growing up and later still we always ate at any time, we always thought of food, because we were always hungry.

class of one. fen.

depending on where does the light come from.

ear of lily

ecstatic landscape because i can't get anywhere

ecstatic vision

fen and my footprint.

fen books.

fuck winter, we want a warm globe.

glass blower

harbor the end

i see a lot of fen butt because he's always bookin'.

hey i'm not perfect i'm fucked up but here we are and you are such a good friend.

back home

with fen.

how many winters do i have. how can i hope for less.

i always say the law was meant to be interpreted in a lenient manner. sometimes i lean one way, sometimes another. hud.

i got to go mister.

i guess i'm fine.

i have to get out of here, i have to go. i'll die here, i'm dead.

i make me so sad.

i once thought i'd get somewhere, i know better now, i was in a story, i thought i could write, i was in a fugue state.

i persuaded him to buck up and go poop, then we met a one who was even smaller and colder than him, without shoes.

i was in a story, the story was in me. i knew other people couldn't see the story, but i couldn't behave otherwise.

i wonder again because it's winter again how many winters will i live.

if i look the same way back i get hypnotized.

infinitree or treeage

it was only yesterday.

it's not that bad! we're basking in the sun!

just remember what i told you.

listening to mogwai with fen.

listening to nick drake listening to mogwai with fen.

limbo.

memory hypnosis

mister doesn't know what i mean by evil because mister doesn't know evil.

he only knows good.

penderecki's metamorphosen. no it's not pretentious.

poor but honest.

reconsidering

rhythm sense of between.

show me love.

snow pillow.

snowshadow burrow.

cuddle with animal in snow.

white study.

why were you there to vanish?

the doubter has a secret faith.

the head always points ahead.

taste of snow.

there is a kind of curious watchfulness that is clairvoyant.

there's always today, even if i'm not there.

they love the military. how can i talk to that.

never mind. think. about the good things.

tree age.

turnabout.

walter something, wrote mill thoughts, prophetic, but just images, he said they don't always happen, the whole cast was hypnotized and performed in brilliant haunting ensemble.

we can work it out. a song.

because. we made the entire world.

we just keep on.

we just keep on going.

we just keep on.

whale bone winter

what,is,he,Doing.

act like you are basking,

 act like you are bathing in sun, it's almost overwhelming, you feel transported, you feel imbued, you feel your body actually become sunlight. that's it, that's it, you got the picture.

you don't have to pretend any more.