To want to be so close to everything that it is the best kind of claustrophobic you can endure. The air, the sun, I, everything about the day will be so comatose. But no one will mention the desired effect for full effect. And after my presence will breathe miniature marionette dances into all ten of your toes. The clock spun world relaxes and we are uptight. You fiddle with your legs, all two of your legs, and I watch. It is the closest thing I have.
February 22, 2008