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November 18, 2007
I waste time. It’s my least favorite thing about me. In surveys where they ask, if you could change something about yourself… Focus. I just get so distracted. If i believed in offsetting blame i’d point to my chemically maladjusted brains but i don’t.
It’s the phenomenon of the orange:

I see an orange. I think of the tree. The man who picked the orange. An old blue pickup. His family. Kids. A toy in dirt. Bare feet. Cacti. We’re in Mexico. I’ve never been to Mexico. Riots. Privilege. Calderon…

To infinity. A million of these continuing in all directions.