what becomes i and i leave what behind are always becoming new. one can't plan these 
things. can you?

i woke at three and popped that last blog. it mayn't make sense but i'll leave it to ponder itself. 

think of emerging, bleary, think of being long underground, drinking root juice. climbing out of a hole in the earth. 

some kind of creature with dewy wrinkled wings. 
don't think longevity. think rebirth. 

i think may be i'm just fit to be a hermit with dogs.
can we be new becoming what we are, can we become new being the same
under our sloughed off skin,
porous, and thirsty again?