The 14th of September 1988 – Bandytown, West Virginia

(found, but torn to shreds, on the brown leaves on the forest floor, glowing in the sunlight streaming through the green leaves of the trees up there)

…but there isn’t any place for that to be anyway. So it’s not that it even matters.

I don’t let that bother me much, though, Georgie. It gives a bit of a sting every now and again, but the sting wears off, and I still get to look around a see the world. As long as I get a chance to see the world, I think it’s worth it for the most part. You know what I’m saying? The sun and the flowers and this sweet smell the grass gets after a rainstorm. Just the world has so much, and I’m here to be a part of it. So that’s what I keep in my mind when I start to think about…

…Not that there’s much of a chance. No matter how many times he tries, there’s just too much traffic, and he can’t get across the freeway.

But I have been doing my stretches, thanks for asking. Has your doctor told you to do any more exercise?

Now, I do get huffy sometimes, and Harold has to remind me, and then I get huffy at him. There’s such a tremendous feeling to breathing, isn’t there? This air that’s been all over the world, probably from the Amazon or from Paris, and now it’s here. It becomes a part of me for the moment, and it helps me to stay alive. I just never stay sure about what any of that means. Does that make any sense? Sometimes it feels like the most terrifying thing, like I’m the smallest leaf getting blown around the surface of it all. Sometimes it just feels like love…


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