8 january

Today i am facing myself, and the ropes are beginning to swing. Today i am scrubbing off layers and layers of skin. The fear-crusted, weak-tea-seeping fool says "banality banality, the world is a mud of banality." The world is absolutely shivering with hot hard friction and opportunity-- the air is so full of static i sometimes fear i will catch on fire-- it is not the world that stagnates; it is me that is so banal. So grab life, you unbitten fool-- hold with both hands the blueberries-and-cream-handlebars