Transmission

I’m overcome by the cruelty of nature no I mean I’m with it. And each little capacity it has can’t be transferred I mean a spruce can’t give its oils to you can it. But that’s how it grows in the ab sence of technology my thoughts grow. My thoughts grow among trees but I don’t help them though I’m for them. I’m for my dog & inci dentally I feed her but I don’t see her much. Joe does. Joe is my friend & also a dog father I don’t help mountains Mountains help me I know the planet is old & splashy sleep helps me. Time helps me. My mother helped me. And now she is gone. She also hurt me so it’s good that she’s gone. I can grow different in the day or three decades in which I’ve got left I can grow toward the mountains sit in solidarity with prisoners or go to jail. I’m not joking I can push different. I want to say something about my cunt. Because that’s what you ask. But I am alone. No mother no phone just a notebook & a cunt & my thoughts. I don’t even think my thoughts. You do.