This is not real. I want to tell the truth. I am no entity but a collection. Each of my parts is a part. If a beehive has a personality then I'm grateful for mine.



For years I waited for drama, for experience to provide a plot.  Now I've had drama but its not heroic, tragic or interesting, it is brown. Dogs trampled kidnapped, friends killed, girls lost or thrown away.  I have no plot and no wish to tell..


Our universe  in the universe is a sand at a beach, in a second of  a million year day.   One word of a book in a library. A word without a sentence.