Everything is annoying me right now. I know there is some kind of wave that is crashing into something that is trying to be stable and structured. When on snowpathed sidewalk, no one could know what had just happened and why the thoughts of things better than running at night caught up. You're not as present as you used to be. I might as well take a small lamp into a closet and sit against the wall and look at things and tape things and write things and burn things. You would be able to see the light from the outside. Wonder if you should open the door or just walk past, or even worse: sit in that room and do something else other than look at that small line of light and keep questioning. I liked what you were trying to say, I always do. But please, don't bring that rough set of rocks in a bag or disgust. Don't hand it to me. I do not want it.