i realized today, very late in the day, i care too much what the humans think, or not care, i think too much about what the humans are thinking. and i never know. it's a fix. not like a drug, well yes like a drug, a fixation. yeah, like a drug that beckons to an empty room. it's a prison self that's administered by a vacuous, blank and indifferent society. you can't live apart from that society. to be yourself in prison. hard to say, hard to say.

i keep repeating myself, not knowing myself, words and pictures repeating, trying to feel life, deadened by indifference life, to feel alive, to keep a record, a death in life.

i remember. the truth we always talked around, like that cold tv, always in the center of the living room, the truth never came out of it, but we kept looking, even when it was off, and it was always on.

somehow i got to talk

about the inarticulate.