most thoughts are not expressed. most stories are not told. there's one story everyone is inside of. they keep going. they keep trying. it's a mystery how. the sun must keep them going even in the dreaming dark. they remember they can't remember. the body keeps going where the mind goes. i wonder how charlie slept last night. i'm letting go. we saw killers of the flower moon. there's a tragic absurdity to life. i get so involved with  stories, and dogs, i can't help it, they become my story. i need them to be. i felt like charlie knew what i was thinking. i felt i knew what she knew. yet it was a mystery how we knew without saying, or talking to ourselves, in our head or aloud. i read the book, i saw the movie. i walk around. when everything is changed some things stay the same. that's what i'm thinking. inside me, beyond me.