i went to the studio and looked around and found my plants dead. the light looked good and no windowpanes had fallen though flakes from the ceiling continue to fall. i found the wet suit in a small pile of clothes. it's an almost full body suit—no arms—for kayaking. and heavy. i thought i might try it but i zoned out to democracy now! got tired as ever by the show, made the bed and got back in with another book, exposition. last night i dreamed about that evil judge amy coney. something about her visage penetrated my membrane. yet she also seemed to be in a kind of terror of herself. i don't know what happened but the gist was oh, no, please please no. after we left the kids exposition for black lives it stormed and hailed and today the messages were blurred and flapping and flying around the grass. i thought the whole thing of saying black lives matter is separate from the truth that no lives matter in this paradigm. all that matters is power, and power stays in power by terrorizing imprisoning defrauding manipulating propagandizing suppressing and killing people who have none. and yet stupid people worship the same power that would crush them like cockroaches. 

you win a god prsin. i read it as you win a god prison or a god person. actually i think it says you were a good person. it still matters, being a good person. amy coney is not a good person, she's evil.