Typed Extra Quick for the Waiting Guy

Prose. What a strange mangling of harmony. Not breaking enough. To show the rhythms. The linebreak, an ingenious not ingenuous invention by someone more than a genie on the genetic scale of action. All this reaction as if playing things over without thinking makes us better. Well, a small update. Matt's moved in. We have a funny humor in our interactions. So much better than interfacing with machines. My armpit gland swelled up. Too many toxins. Just because I'm a wine-steward doesn't mean I'm a lush. On the contrary, I probably just didn't get enough nutrients for a week combined with too much pinball in bars with Meilani. Oh well.

Mortality never ceases to amaze.

Not a significant crush to report. Intelligent & pretty girls abound. Some where we pause at meeting & weigh the cosmic repurcussions. Nothing too right. Excited about the City Repair rave coming soon. Kinnie Starr performing the night after that. Decided not to go to M Ward's show, too big. Reading physics books, following my Einstein obsession. Rereading Dune series as a prelude to the new Sequel based on Frank Herbert's notes found in a lockbox. Cleaned the shit out of my place before Matt's arrival. Still anticipating The Fountain coming out. Great to have Gnarls Barkley in the house again. Reading Carruth & Matthew Zapruder for poetry right now. Both have that humor. Oh, also Ryokan. Ryokan the zen-poet-priest-hermit-jokester. He of the big heart & companion of children. Thank goddess the Yankees eliminated in the first round. Huskies playing much better football. Still dislike the job. Creatures are dear & sometimes dangerous. Danger gives us adaptation galore. Time to trail off. So many trails to take. This was typed extra quick cause there's someone waiting.