you're trying to find. You want to find this place,
lay down in it, rest your head or whatever
and then, man, you just deal with it.
This area, this placed area, is between the
verge and dirge of something else.
Many lonely people have witnessed and wrestled
with an extremely fast blue grass song, so much
so that there's nothing left at all to hear, even
the fiddle player who rattles in a number of
different directions at once, even that sound
couldn't be emptier. My whole life, with
people around me, many of whom I love a lot
and some of whom I get very tired of, we are
like cabins in a forest, drifting through the woods
only because none of us are real. Dear red-headed
children, dear lost little robins, dear poor deers,
rabbits, strong avian types, and whiskery cats, please
hear these problem I am trying to pinpoint. You know,
consider yourself a fucking dobro if you have to,
but the point is that you elaborate toward
something very funky and right-thinking. It doesn't
matter to any of us if you live or die. That's
not really the issue. There's something more to
consider, just understand what you're getting into,
Tina.
