im weaing the size medium 16inch inseam mesh high school lacrosse shorts lying bareback against the cool permeating from the 50's lead based painted wall of the house where i currently live. not because its dangerous, but because i am willing to tempt death for sound comfortable night sleep--or really anything to escape the musty smell and heat of this century old house. i only hope its ability to contain heat carries through to the winter--i care little for drafty homes--this from living out in the african bush for a month with the hunter gatherer group called the Hadza. when dwellings were built they were built with stronger intentions of providing shelter than the physicality could perform. that adventure is another story entirely however. but back to the main purpose of this whole thing: i felt that when uncle kurt would talk of certain people being within your karass he was making a play on words about how crass it is that we as a race strive to make meaning and categorize everything. we could say "oh well johnny and i were in the same class in elementary school and now were in college in the same class, must be fate that we know each other...now what?" now what? for some people who have lived a somewhat sedentary existence by a seaside, cornfield, or skyscraper where faces remain changed only by time it is difficult to understand the genious of uncle kurts works involving the curiously humerous invention called a karass. i lived in one place no longer than 2 years from the time i was 0 to 22, well currently. so i see a lot of faces, meet a lot of people when i feel like it, forget a lot of people always, and am endlessly attentive and watching. there are a few souls who by happy mistakes or whatever fate wills for me to discover have crossed my path unwillingly, unknowingly, unexpectedly. from an initial introduction to a face pictured on a wall to crossing paths in work then again else where. in some instances its as if we are all aware something creepy is going on here and so naturally we stitch our lips closedand speak not a word to any of us. then by some circumstance we end up in the same place on the same time. im not talking about things like going some place to eat, i mean things that matter like life plans and how we carry them out. such as how two timelines of life in their entirety overlap. its maddening. only time reveals what purpose was indwelt. i wonder what will come of mine as people come and go i shall be watching with bright eyes, galvanized, to see what new there is to learn to embrace and to live.

i just had a idea about sin. but forgot it. i have been forgetting the little things a lot lately. age is no excuse im 22. and as i was thinking about sin i forgot i was not back in my own home, back east. then i remembered i carry the abatross of a consistent interior design--though it changes every now and again. i purchased the suburbs today. it is the adorned child you are not immediately taken to, but as time passes you grow and understand more, so too the whole damn thing becomes so damn beautiful and you wish you could cry--partly because you missed it the whole time and partly because its so human, and mostly because its all wonderful. i have some plastering of my body to this lead based wall to do.