every day i hear the call of the wild

and it's sweet music to my harrowed city ears

and that has made all the difference

though in the relative actual wild i felt terribly other. it could be my place in the autistic continuum, or just a fractured sense of nature that can hide somewhat in cities.

(it was a rough day. it was a great day, on a small scale.)

um picnic remains patrol.

when did we vote the hatriot act?

wimmoweth.