Then what

Our mind.
Theirs or ours.
Mine and theirs.
Mine vs. it.

No better clue.

We shouldn't watch television anymore. The nature of reality is obscured on there. I am designing a squat box to be assembled in a remote area. Any spot. By "squat box" I am describing a structure to be lived in. But also feel free to flatten your screens. And by "flatten" I mean "hit with a hammer." Actually, "kill your TV" stickers have been around since at least the early 90's. It's a damn sight more salient now of a statement.

The houses I'm designing can be built with junk out of a dumpster. A short cutoff rectangular honeycomb of 2x4s; easily procured. These walls can be pre-assembled, and stacked in a minivan for transport. You can live in these walls forever, sans screens. [i desperately need help/this is not a test]

I will make one variation for the desert, and one version for the mountains. I am personally constructing the desert model, but the plans will be basically the same for colder climates. The main difference is with windows and insulation.

The dimensions are 16 feet by 16 feet. If that isn't enough, then your brain is an oyster, and your skull is full of disgusting stuff which somebody braver might presently crack out and eat.

You have to communicate with me if we are going to stick together

Comment with "1" if you are currently satisfied. If you are in touch with what you believe to be reality, type "1" in the comments.

Comment with "2" if you suspect that you are also on the reverse side of the curtain. If the absurdity is making you feel uncomfortable more than half of the time, type "2" in the comments.

If you feel inclined to comment with "3" then feel free to do so. I have no better clue than anybody.

The Way We All Are. (Speaking personally)

She palmed the window insistently. She banged her hand on the glass of the passenger side of my old green van. I was in the passenger seat, Shelly was driving, and all of Mini Band and friends were inhabiting the van. My old band, my old van, years ago.

She had a short gold dress and impractical heels. She needed to get in, and there was no appropriate space. I opened the door, and offered her my hand. I helped her up, and she positioned herself atop my lap, or more so toward my right thigh, leaning in. Safe. I am the safest person on earth.

Some man was chasing her and threatening to hurt her. Our new friend was a skinny lady of color thanking Mini Band for aiding her quick escape. Let me ask. Is it important that she was black? We were all white kids in that long green van. U.S.A. folks still feel compelled in our writing to mention race. It still does matter. It still is a different painted portrait, and my brush is only so precise. Concise. I love you.

We didn't need to go far. We altered our course toward her safe haven.

I think about this lady who we met. As a human mind I am pure and pouring with empathy; saturated in privilege and bleach. If I have learned anything it is that I know less as I get older. Approaching 36 gladly I am left to wonder as always before if it is mushrooms after mushrooms that have opened my mind. I doubt so. However I believe it was with assistance that I have been able to embrace science and the vastness of the universe, and the desert's own view of the stars.

Establish new healthy routines.

Establish new healthy routines. Get divorce finalized on Tuesday. Hang out with my ex, and get that paperwork stuff done. Hang out afterward maybe, or maybe just give her some weed. Reduce drinking. Going to Georgia at the end of the month. Taking Megabus and turning 36 down there. Still riding bicycles and making money ok.