30 march, 1997

march 30

happy Easter, egg.

March 29: this voice stuff is getting better, about ten words a minute.
young men in my dormhall actually invite them in. one rodent approached my standing feet I was slightly worried, ethan, you play them harmonica, trust they won't bite, they feel your fear swami hall, goin' let de birds land in yer hair? I was thinking more of St. Francis, what does the Koran say of all creatures great and small?		That getting better stuff was macintrashed early whoops
	seething. lanky, i wore my running tights ben says I look like a superhero who lost his job.	I lost three days, four, of training my computer carew says it's like teaching my daughter to speak, , listen.
	and in his anger could feel his hands Tingle.
it had been Saturday, , Saturday was her busy night sometimes: San Francisco
Wilson's room was mine / words can not express generational cliche
	it would be cheesy to write love poems for woman after women, I heard him say
today, today, she de she thrown it out profusely rolling stone seen	I spoke with energy and manic laughter quite an adventure we won.	Easter, cristos a nesti so she rose at 10am shit, did bleed on those pants.

happy Easter, egg.

trei wants to work together to build a place for folks to talk on these pages. Purely non-commercial.
doug wants to know where he can find money.

brush your teeth with an other hand

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