There are so many things I want you to know, but I despair of ever being able to tell you; things that don’t really matter but seem important in some way. Things that I want to not be the only person to know…

Like how the number 3, always seems like an ‘r’ to me (same with the number 7, an ‘l’).

Or how I really love that perfect moment in the evening, when the sun is setting and it’s rays are coming right at you in that soft and loving way. I love that. Those are the brief moments that I feel a connection with anything. I want you to know that I set up that chair in the front room just so I can sit and wait for that moment and feel the tepid sun’s rosy-ness wash over me and, every so briefly, I feel real and here. I feel tangible.

I want you to know that I love uncovery. No, not discovery, uncovery. I know it isn’t a word, but that’s what I like. To wipe away/scrape away/pick away a layer and find the pristine original underneath. No matter the amount of gunk and dirt and years of hiding, underneath the real remains.

You need to know that I’m not vague by choice or “out there” and spacey because I want to be cool and different. I just sometimes have problems finding something in my programmed language that actually comes close to telling you things. I’m a failure at articulation, and make do as best I can.

Oh there are so many things. I think about them, and want to tell you. But I forget, or I can’t figure out how…..