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| i've been reading books this summer. right now it's Our Kind, a biological and anthropological survey of human culture. reading the chapters on meat consumption made me crave meat. a similar thing used to happen when reading Steinbeck, who described food in a way that always made me hungry. so when john suggested getting an organic freerange chicken for dinner, i pretty much lost my head. the rain had just started, we were standing outside homegrown market, and i jumped up and down saying, "i'm going to eat it! i'm going to eat it!" john baked it right, the flesh was falling off the bone. i dug in, soaked buttered bread in fat, chewed the cooked flesh. it made me feel sick. why did i do it? words can have the same effect. i wake up--who put those thoughts there? be careful! sarah said the ideas and feelings we indulge before bed will sink down deep as our bodies refresh themselves. what are you doing here? staring into a body cavity, a chicken abyss, the illusion of flesh. you better take a shower before going to bed. i've been reading books this summer; putting people in my head. chew 'em up, spit 'em out. dial up, transfer files, here you are. hungry yet? i wish there were a kitty here to walk across the keyboard: laiwueyr JHFA PSIASFIHUESAUHFI[ry3 fpi eiusga uae duh jgh aerhg[a9wtQWRJEB FJHBAG e98y7tasu8flsb yiefdk;s 37R89GBYCE-987CQ54Q34
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