piracy

two more days and i move to my tent.

to start working, instead of working towards. building, instead of building to.

living instead of waiting.

all of this, in a tent. a simple fence and a govt recognized deed.


all of this and a part of me, the kneejerk skeptic, wont feel too hard for fear of falling hard, of regressing and having to work...
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squeeze one out, just for old times sake.


wifey and child are leaving town for a while, i'm moving into my tent. i'm going to build a platform, fix the fence, chase down a beaver, and pump water uphill.

so i'll be offline for a while, back to visit, i'm sure, but this coming up is a preamble to my being more profoundly offline than...
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i got nothin to tell you.

sorry i had to bring it up.

i love my typewriter more than i love you.

oman what a day.

pix to come.

i went on a random trailblazing hike from where i am to where i own - i saw a couple of bucks with big velvet antlers, i saw ground birds, i found marsh flowers, and saw stickbugs fucking.

i made a trail, from here to there. i didn't even get lost. i stalked rednecks on atvs. i found...
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nobody finds me interesting when i'm sober, so i won't waste much of your time.

you, personally, shit more than 100,000,000,000,000 bacterial cells per day.