G-d's gift to Oxygen

well, there you are.

before I start off with todays palabras
(is that even a word!?)
I have an interjection

I love that you wrote me 4 times today.
But I have to say that I feel abit guilty
about potentially making you feel guilty.
I was joking, which Im sure you knew...
and you've made it very clear that its not
the quantity of my writings that make
you write less, but the quality...

This gave me an idea.
I have hired a 9 year old boy named Garreth
(who is as cute as not 1, but 2 buttons)
In exchange for 5 dollars and the occasional
chocolate dip cone, Garreth has agreed to
come over to my house and after carefully
listening to what it is I want to tell you
type it out for me...in his own words.

I will never be Sad to get e-mails from you faith,
but I hope you know that its not a competition.
What is a competition is how much you'll write me
when IM gone someplace, sometime...

It wasnt that I was numb this morning--
it was that I couldnt move...
or rather...that I was suprised when I could.
The wall between my conscious and un has a door
thats wide open in the morning. Things wander back and
forth as they please.
I should warn you that I have accused people of saying things
they havent ever said...outside of my grey-matter.
(there are usually clues in the memory--Bj has, as far as I know,
never dressed up as a giant penguin and beaten me with foam bats)

Oki, one story, and then I go.
Thats probably a lie.

I went to go see Talis today.
I needed something,
and I wanted to talk to him.
He is a wise, and intelligent.
I may have mentioned that Germany
had stolen my girlfriend.
"Germany", he said, "I like it there"
He's an idiot.
He proceded to tell me a story
that helped me explain what you both
like so much about it.
Ask me later and Ill tell you about it.
(its chalked full of neo-nazis,
with a suprise ending)

I have all kinds of conversations going on.
Some of which are important.

more later.