there's a girl with bright green hair and tattoos and i want to read her but i just want to read like a book and not intrude and i know only she could tell what they mean and they are mostly under clothing and she's not here to be read by a stranger but maybe if i could say my interest is visual and she does seem to want to express something and the green hair is so vibrant it beckons. 
well a storm is coming and i got to go.
i'm still so fucking sick of permanent war. on democracy now they talk of the antiwar protestors and the police thugs in chicago 50 years ago. amazing, i wasn't even conscious. i was 8. nothing has changed. we are changed by the world of war. 
all of us in this story this same old thuggish story.