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the only true currency in this bankrupt world had a crystal sort of dream dreary midnight i was playing a strange sort of soccer game in a twenty by twenty square with five people who had to juggle it between them never (obviosly) using their hands and never going around the ball to hit it if it had passed a certain distance from the ring of us in which case you had to call a timeout. it's all very unclear but i was enjoying myself immensly. at least until i moved to save another man's hit when he was unable but got caught with the time out myself. i woke after this. i woke smiling though and teetered my way to the white latrine and christened it new and named it after me moving graceful or not out to the porch to easy smoke a cigarette contemplate henry miller and slide back in to this to here to all of this with you with all of these pages littered and loitered on by me and my close non associates wasting bleak days in the pale window light typing frantically before the end of it all and i hope it goes alright for everyone else. i hope it goes down like the edge of a mudslide carrying you home carrying you back into the arms of everyone you've ever loved. you deserve them all.
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