I was sitting today, in my room, like always, and thinking. Thinking about what, I can't really recall, things I suppose, the shape of flowers or the color of the wild grass. It's green again; it will stay that way briefly I expect, until too much rain finally kills it. I thought about zoos, and their animals. The hippo is sad, you can tell, his pool is too small, its tiny compared to his giant body, it barely has room to turn around. I thought about food, and eating it, I was craving miso soup and brownies. I thought about the sound clocks make, and how it annoys me, which naturally evolved into thoughts about how I hate clocks and timepieces and schedules all together. Then I thought about how NASA used thousands upon thousands of budget dollars to invent a pressurized pen that would work in space; while the Germans, blessed with logic, decided to use pencils. I thought about songs, and making them, I sang one in my head; it was about pajamas with the feet on them. I thought about getting a job, and how it would be nice to get paid to sit in my room thinking these thoughts I was thinking. Then an hour later or so I thought “What if my friend were here, my good friend, the one I love, the one I love a whole fuckin’ lot?”