a month ago I was in south africa, living with drug dealers and criminals and a murderer or two in this enormous white hockney-house high on a hill (a clear, clean cobalt blue triangle, upside down, was the ocean), in capetown. and you could smell its sweet scent. there was an emerald green swimming pool in the front yard. fetus-shaped. the entire experience was extremely intense and it was a paheli, as the pert persians would say, and ultimately I need to finish reading 'war and self-defense' by rodin before I write about it in any remotely meaningful or ethical sort of way. about a week ago I was in jonathan and aaron's dorm room in texas, watching lazy town on tv ("stephanie is new in town! and soon she and ziggy are frie-ends!"). aaron was so nice and drove me to the airport on saturday. at 5 am. if you have a firstborn child available you should send it to him. rapidement!
this and that. and then! right now I am in vancouver ("couth-faun-fur," I said last night, florentine hands clasped anxiously, in a dream). the other day I was walking down hastings street to buy a new piece at the amsterdam cafe (I named it winslow), and I saw a woman huddling, hunched against a building with a man in front of her like a stretched shadow, and she was smoking CRACK. it was so unexpected that I let out a little scream of laughter. does anyone in seattle want to hang out with me on sunday? seriously. e-mail me! using e-mail (TM)
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