"there are literature and toilet pucks in the same world, and that the love of one has led to the working with the other and how bizarre is that (?). "

i didn't know, until you wrote it. now i know. now I GET IT.

and how bizarre is THAT? like, i didn't even know i didn't know and now i know...

i'm grateful for that. they are....the same...

but then i think i'm so completely freakin compulsive and insane about things that maybe it's just my compulsiveness for 'things' that make it seem the same. maybe it's just my complete inability to represent or discuss or describe ANYTHING within the oral that is the same...

or maybe you're right. maybe it's all the same. the love and creativity and passion and sensuality and and and

fuckin a puck...

the pucks haven't made me cry (not yet) with the utter strength of rimbaud tho. but i'm stretching....streeeeeeeeeeetching.