i woke up to pee thinking there's a story here that has been going on that is not being told and i just wish i could tell it. that's all. it just feels fragmented, and the only thing i can do is walk the dogs and talk about stuff with people in passing. i get exhausted. and at this point i feel the earth exhausting itself. and we exhausting the life on earth. it was a dream we had of life on earth and that dream is over. we may be too exhausted, too late, to dream a new dream. i feel this loop of exhaustion. and what is the story after all? we can try to save one thing, but the whole thing, the whole story is the exhaustion. how can we tell that? stay tuned. i guess that's all we can do. we're still stuck in the dream's end though. we can't tell it;it is being told by forces beyond our control or understanding. the story of earth is telling us, and this story we're the living end of is beyond our ken.

 "the object- the thing- always fascinated me and in a certain sense destroyed me. in my book the besieged city i speak directly about the thing. the thing is a specialized and immobilized animal."

clarice lispector
a breath of life