mister kept going back to this cleft and i finally looked. he didn't say anything, just looked at it like a philosophical knot, until i found a driftwood lever. he was so impressed.

art and economy.

barney tilrock rides the elevator.

exiles are right at home in america.

fading dream.

frisson. it's difficult to talk to people.

hardly working.

he has pills for anxiety. he doesn't seem anxious particularly normally but maybe that's because he's pilled. he does get anxious and curls his long toenails and walks on the balled clawfoots like he's footbound. sometimes i press down on hios feet to flatten the claws and tell him, it's ok, you can walk easier this way. i try to buffer his phobias with reality, but it's hard to unlearn what fear taught.