That's Why We Have Memory. And The

We Are Where We Are, However We Got Here. What Matters Is Where We Go Next.

Now I’m Just Standing Here On The Conveyor. Along For The Ride. I Reach The End, Turn Around, And Go Back The Other Way. The World Has Been Distilled. Being Dead Is Easy. After A Few Hours Of This, I Notice A Female On The Opposite Conveyor. She Doesn’t Lurch Or Groan Like Most Of Us. Her Head Just Lolls From Side To Side. I Like That About Her. That She Doesn’t Lurch Or Groan. I Catch Her Eye And Stare At Her.

The Kind Of Stuff I Usually Read Is A Bit More On The Literary Side, Like Books That I Think Are Influential In The Sense That They're Doing Pulpy Subject Matter In A Refined Way. Like 'the Road' By Cormac Mccarthy, I Loved That Book.

I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes.

The Sports Arena Julie Calls Home Is Unaccountably Large, Perhaps One Of Those Dual-event 'super Venues' Built For An Era When The Greatest Quandary Facing The World Was Where To Put All The Parties.