sexual algebra

there is a baby spider on my arm
it's cute
it's 7 am, i haven't slept, this is not unusual.

all summer i've been scribbling incoherencies on scraps of paper, crumpling them into my bag, leaving them there for a few days, then trying to decipher and subsequently discarding them. i can only ever make out a few words like "sorry" and "change" and "who am i?"

but those moments pass. i want a tattoo before i'm too old to have an excuse for it.

things have been good, i can't say they haven't. sometimes i just want someone to take care of, and then i realize that i'm enough of a project even for myself.

people absolute fascinate me though and i become rapidly if briefly enamored.
it will all keep happening.