if i mumble something or something i say does not make sense like cleaning the swamp she just goes back in her head and thinks of something else which makes sense i suppose. live the difference i say. 
we met a friend at the beach with a dog named sadie and stayed a good while. the friend was feeling pain and loss and r. said you look beautiful. i said i remember people saying i looked good when i was wretched and i almost felt slighted like they didn't believe me and i was making it up. which maybe i was, and maybe i was trying to get to the bottom of it. maybe it was a mystery hard to crack yet fiercely engaging, after all the self is an intense subject. maybe being lost is a prelude to finding something new, like in a dark wood you discover a meadow, or some equivalent. 
she asked if i was disappointed kumar didn't appear and i said no it's all floating, all in good time.