i know mister's waiting for me. by saturday it will be i think the longest time we've been apart. i know as i think of him he thinks of me, and i wish i could tell him i'm ok and i'll be back, no matter what, on saturday. 
i'm reading about fungii, bacteria and parasites and learning that they are extremely creative, they can make puppets out of creatures, from fruit flies to people. bacteria make up half the world biomass. these are the ones who'll inherit the earth; they're ingenious, they are not meek. the ones in me are inscrutable to me, but only because they have fused with me, and i'm inscrutable even to myself, and i never make big plans, and am the perfect host to the inscrutable ones small plans to run the world even while the supremacists try to make it great.
sorry, i digress, i been in this bed, host to parasites and errant cogitations, for days. i just wanted to say, i'm waiting to get back to mister and will regardless of the small plans of the tiny puppeteers pulling my strings.