sometimes i don't like myself much. i get sick of myself. maybe that's when i get sick, or some fungus comes along saying, let's move in, he don't care, he don't even like himself that much. yesterday was hell but you heard about that. there is a fungus amongus mom use to say. she studied the fungus among us, and taught me some, the cute benign kinds, not the aliens occupying me. she never taught me about the nasty kind. they ain't cute. so today i walked better.my feet are like baby feet, under tough peeling dead skin islands. the fungus is in my hands making little cuts and unregenerating patches, and stippling my arms, but that i can live with, and may have to, i don't have the cream to cover my entire corpus. we live with the fungus among us, but sometimes they trump the host and take over.