yesterday we cleaned out the garage really well for the first time in the two years i've lived here and found a pothole in the middle of the floor under some carpet. it leads to a cistern where old timey people who lived here used to collect rainwater which they'd tap from the basement and use to bathe and wash clothes. now it's just filled with a shit ton of rocks which we spent most of the night excavating outta there with a bucket tied to a rope and a garden shovel.

today i gotta steal some toilet paper and clean up my bike some more. good thing i woke up at 5:30 am. it'll take me at least 30 minutes to get all that done.

.the crust presented by the life of lies
is made of strange stuff.

i pursued the living; i walked the wildest and the narrowest paths that i might know it's nature. with a hundredfold mirror i still caught it's glance when it's mouth was closed, so that it's eyes might speak to me. and it's eyes spoke to me.