i got a maybe-in-the-spring falulu. 

i heard there's a pair of characters in a mystery based on mister and me but i can't get into mysteries, unless i'm put in, and i doubt it's much of mister or me.

i may only have malulu by spring. i may be alive, considering which i already feel my sap, gnome sane, rise.

why do we hafta ask why we're here. it should be plain. but whatevs, gnome sane.

i'm not gonna try anymore to make something of myself like a character would. 

the ancestors shouldn't exhaust us like the present. we can take or leave them. mystery should be preserved with exposure.

w-3 a memoir isn't a mystery per se but it's author is. i'm only halfway in, what was that line,

in the midway of this our mortal life
midway upon the journey of our life
midway along the journey of our life                                                                i came around and found myself now searching
through a dark wood, the right way blurred and lost

sure, why not, only live once, who knows, right, it's a pandemic reality, let yourself go, don't get hung up on the hooks, gnome sane, get out the house, walk your dog.