haven't left the house in 2 days. sun and rain all day yesterday. i dreamed hard last night and woke up stiff and short of breath. imagining all the things that could be wrong with me that will just have to be. today maybe i'll get in the water i don't know. jasper just barfed. sunday he did not. i finished two books and started dark satellites. there's a book i thought would suit me, memory, about a diary of words and pictures of a year in life. i haven't read it. i write this every day. it's kind of like reading that would displace this. maybe she had more to say. that book was written 50 years ago. this will not be a book in 50 years. so this is more important to say as it will be gone and it is me. otherwise what is it?