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2002-10-13

Always aware as my ego transforming from one vague ink spot thought to another, blocking out the sun or making me invisible enough. Always somehow an obstruct. My personal investigation for now as I feel the ego sometimes surge right out, a sudden contracting correction with a mumble down in speech. "Quiet down...easy does it." The same old voice. The same old questioning of my puritan, prude roots. The inability to adjust the volume, twist the knob, just so. Which antennae is receiving right: a pinky, my left ear, the piece of hair always afloat, something different.

My window has three towers with three red blinking lights each. It's enough, you know, just to look out the window...and then to find another distraction. Until bump, again.