You Time.

Hello, One. Two here.

You remind me of baseball and Tonka trucks and scratchy pantyhose and the beauty of mystery and of being thirteen and Starlight, Starbright and a house of cards and of my brother and of my mother and of my father and acts of contrition and great swear words and dramamine and dirty fingernails and sunspots and elegance and of those moustache disgues and the smell of sex and slingshots and.

More like a song and less like its math; curse the shackles of language and measureable time and.

And this is the part where I wish the jews a happy xmas and say how I love nothing more than warming myself by the nice products. But the world's got me dizzy again. You'd think after 28 years I'd be used to it. So I wave my hand and kick my leg, and it is always right with the music. Keeping a careful, sardonic eye on the teleprompter. Trying not to be scared of the nightmare of swirling social cues.

I am busy. But the sight of you makes me remember my needs.