i wish i had a mind like a scalpel.

some people really appreciate wine or baseball cards or coasters or cigars, and appreciating something seems to bring about in human beings the strong desire to own it. people come to collect things over time. they keep them in specially outfitted cellars, plastic sleeves, cupboards, and boxes calibrate-able humidity levels.

but you fucks refuse to live in my basement. the only things i really appreciate insist on leaving my sight constantly-- and not only my sight, but sometimes my city-- and not only my city, but the safe spaces. it's the nature of what i appreciate that it should wander off and get into trouble/fun/glory, that it should wander off and get distracted. and since i can't keep you in a cupboard, i hope that while you're out going boldly (and i'm out, too, and distracted, too) you'll stay a little safe in my honor (all of you). or at least consider me fondly before you decide against it.

this could turn saccharine on a dime. i'm going to quit while i'm almost not behind.