i'm having a spot of trouble reading the third unconscious. last night i switched to the nursery for a narrative breather. it's partly the way it's written, partly my brain fatigue. i'll keep going though and glean what i can, and can the rest. 

 i was looking down on the obamachron and a neighbor came by. i didn't know how they felt about the obamachron and i was smiling nervously and laughing softly while i spoke. when i realized we both abhor the obamachron i relaxed and it felt good to just say the truth, what a crime and what an entitled elite asshole obama turned out to be. 

 a moment of miniature forest bathing in the secret garden while lulu wandered around me daydreaming.

 the neighborhood's crawling with bipeds. all charlie and i need is a little green space and some lovely cool tree shadows to bask in. a few humans is a good thing, but a throng is unnerving. 

 rafa y maria.

 

a rose for lulu.

 uh, kid, that's grass, i can get my own grass if i want grass, right, however, it is clover that i want. sweet of you to think of my desires though kid, i appreciate you, now run along, and be careful with those kids with big sticks.