incorect

Like I said... I'm trapped in Curious Yellow like a bug in amber, time is slowed to sluggishness...I ought to get out of this poison garden but every move knots me further in.

Didn't go to the city today. Shit weather and not enough money. I think about my darlings often. I'm afraid I've missed your important epiphanies, beautiful or wrenching. I mean to return this year maybe in in july, depending on the status of my overall peasantry... it's been a different life without your company... without your input, your gifts of art... not to mention the arguments and petty dramatics. I hope you'll keep me around despite my neglect. it can't last much longer, you know how i can't stand deprivation.

No sleep. In the beginning i am her moth. she wraps her hands around this space in a sort of gentle ownership. Her palms are a bedroom, I voluntarily shed the brown dust that covers my wings... it is possible i will regret the loss but anything else would be a lie, these eyes are in fact a trick of darwinian theory. There are no other predators- only time... and I've never been an accurate judge of it.