answering questions like what is this story really about and having her teach me about african american mysticism, rolling out of bed wrapped in the covers and burning eyes can't even open them sneezing on my knees on the hard floor breath to heaven and drudging off to the toilet. shrugging my shoulders sayin' i don't know all the time i don't know i don't know yes, i'll come sit with you and keep you company sit close on the sofa come close i want to read you something oh heaven oh breath i don't know i don't know and all paragraphs ever written a large sweeping i don't know.

and don't be sorry

"deni is meanwhile very busy tellin me what a mess i've made of my life but i've heard that from everybody coast to coast and i dont care generally and i dont care tonight and this is my way of doing and saying things."

-jack kerouac, lonesome traveler

my dinner, dress, associates, looks, business, compliments, dues,
the real or fancied indifference of some man or woman i love,
the sickness of one of my folks - or of myself... or ill-doing...
     or loss or lack of money... or depressions or exaltations,
they come to me days and nights and go from me again,
but they are not the Me myself.

-leaves of grass

let me tell you something, baby brother

"our girlhood was spent like a found nickel on you.  when you slept, we were quiet; when you were hungry, we cooked; when you wanted to play, we entertained you; and when you got grown enough to know the difference between a woman and a two-toned ford, everything in this house stopped for you.  you have yet to wash your own underwear, spread a bed, wipe the ring from your tub, or move a fleck of dirt from one place to another.  and to this day, you have never asked one of us if we were tired, or sad, or wanted a cup of coffee.  you've never picked up anything heavier than your own feet, or solved a problem harder than fourth-grade arithmetic.  where do you get the right to decide our lives?  i'll tell you where.  from that hog's gut that hangs down between your legs.  well, let me tell you something, baby brother: you will need more than that.  i don't know where you will get it or who will give it to you, but mark my words, you will need more than that."

-song of solomon