12:21-12.31

i read a word i didn't know in the sfbg yesterday. maybe the day before. it shocked me to read a word i didn't know. some times, i think im smarter than i am. its a true confession. again with the focus on the point. stop and look at my hand. is it a rash? just irritated from the small scabs of scrapes i picked at. big dreams last night. sleep full of dreams. i dreamed that i drove the get away car for a theft of $5000. maybe it was more money. they were some friends of mine who had previously stolen and gotten away with it so i thought i would get in on it. only i saw though the time folding in my dream, that we were busted, caught, that the cops had put the pieces together only because of weird dream dynamics i couldn't say tell them. it had me worried today about my future life of crime. which i then decided must be nil, considering how bothered i was at the dream of being involved in it. unless you want to count passive involvement in injustice, then guilty as charged, in good company, and see you in hell mother fuckers. she said the heat makes her cuss. okay. there was an opening. tonight the moons light poured into my eyes. it was so bright. how does it do that? be so bright? i mean, obviously its supercharged with spirituality. and it inspires awe. creak. chip. rocking. out house chairs. combinations. i have this wired memory of reading in a stephen pinker book that something like all, or maybe like 98% but it was way way way way way up there of the sentences we speak? write? are original. it was part of the reason that getting computers to understand language is so difficult. but that just doesn't seem right. It is not right. how many times has that sentence been written. Yes, I'll take some more. trite. Manifest destiny. wombafest dreams. festival. a festival of what?