while coming here i was thinking how i struggle with words.things make sense only vaguely and i want to paint these vague impressions into a dictionary, they must mean something, appear lively and articulate, like a belly dancer, or a motorcycle, or a travelling salesman pleading his wares; to myself at least if to nobody else. and on a different note, to add to it, im going deaf i think. i cant seem to follow without things being repeated for my edification. and people are kindness, and im sometimes the shylock of charity. these contradictions are not really so. they are like tracks at a junction. they overlap with the car moving. so i chug along too as if pulled by this great force that draws me effortlessly. i am far away from the machine, but it has a gravitational field i cannot escape. i think it roars and growls and crashes and hammers, but as it turns out, she mumbles.