Need to keep, reading. Been drifting too late, staying up too early, Yogi Berra: Joe DiMaggio—red sox good this year? I eat a lot, don't need reminding. Youthful aspirations mean so little to me. This is a walk, over the hill, the other side of the street with no sidewalks so people walk the streets. I have no defense against my will; the book is true, never be religious but I do believe in details. Oh, holy details! Wandering through the outskirts of everyone's lives, I don't like this so I will try for change, funny how giving in to comfort does not make me feel good. Who is the Surfer? Me, I was wrong, the world was (and is) likely right, at least in part, no good comes from crying. Life in the air—balance - whatever the word says. Sometimes new words come but it's mostly just the same. I like the Giant aisles, make feel akin to the city, people look at me funny and they're always proved correct. Don't know, maybe they were just looking out for their family. I'm a small fry. Can't call or text so never will. Connections go to air, they go into the atmosphere, sorry for the aphorism but it's probably true. Used to write like Chekhov, now I write like a retarded Paley, a Chaucer who forgot how to speak.