29 Aug

and then it popped to me, that little mite, that wee smidgen of a thought, up in that grey wriggly mass up there, that i have done smack so far.

talks, spews, rambles for miles on end, but hardly puts forth, never articulates anything that is worth speakin up for in the first place.

its been all air thus far, sometimes hot, sometimes cold. sunny yellow and cloudy gray, and most shades in between. hoho i dun suppose its gonna change anytime. crabs skitter and hustles sideways, never forward.