moop! maaaap! daaaaaaaaaap!

in other words: my life needs some geometry, structures, and paragraphs. i noticed: when i don't write, i feel a tension under the skin where my neck meets my shoulders.

last few days of berkeley, last few days of los angeles were a ridiculous blur, it was like we heard drums wherever we went, small drums, crazy drums, with hands flailing, shadows stuttering, and dust swirling all over the place... someone took my guts and made a paper airplane out of it, swirling everywhere, between freeway overpasses and telephone lines, into the butt cheeks of anyone in my way.



and in a few hours, i'll be on an airplane, staring at my sneakers, trying to imagine the ocean beneath me, wondering how many seagulls are cawing "MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE!" below.

next time we see each other, we'll speak in putonghua.