July 15, 1999

So whadya think - we should go for a ride? Na. Set the narrative aside for a moment. How ya doin'? Not bad. Got them books on the shelves - or most of 'em. Don't know why I packed so many - nothing rational about it - some kinda instinct at work. Got a need to have stuff. Me - it's books. You - who knows? Bits of cloth, chunks of burnt clay, stolen vegetables? Yeah, but books are differnt. Like people. It's what's inside that counts - and it ain't just paper and ink. Ya know? somebody reads a book and they know they been inside something real...funny what that ink can do.

So when did ya recover dada? Just this afternoon out by the dumpster with all them old book boxes piled up. Mosta this human world is a cardboard box - if yr lucky ya got handles - so why not become a stuffed parakeet for awhile? Why not become a paperclip? We got these magical moments all over the place - just switch it on. Thanks, dada, for teaching us the century good...and here you are out by the dumpster still. Come on in. I'll fix a pot a oranges.

It's all been written off as madness...until, that is, they find a way to make some money off it. Until that day, they live in fear that something might be odd strange weird bizarre or just a little bent. Kid, you'll never make a living there; get into something practical.

One a those days.