can i say “i miss you” if our new skin-shed selves have never even met? we’ve got these tiny little needles fallen from our seedling past, ya know? hmmmmm. i can just say that i’m magnetized by whatever fragments linger and all the rest of this new static pulling me to some place in between our almost 6,000 mile rift, friend.

oh, i think the place just about right in the middle is actually newfoundland. excellent. see you.

as for sharing names with rodents, i am of course a “guinea pig” in suomi, which, here in the land from whence YOU came, is slang-ed as “one who the universe fucks with for fun to see how i’ll blunder this time” (probably would happen to me in finland too – tests of my will are undoubtedly universal).

so, it sounds like you get guinea pigged too (just be thankful, ESPECIALLY in the cold, that you aren’t a “skinny pig” or “baldwin”…which would be cute if they weren’t the result of lab experiments and purebreeding for exploitative shows/competitions: http://www.sphynxncavies.com). i’m so impressed by all that you’ve done in the face of wagon-eatin’ molds and that ominous employment monster, prowling around with its promises of silly things like rent-able dwellings with private monogrammed towel-decorated bathrooms & those shackles that come with such dullness & entanglement back there inside its wretched grasp.

but you’ve found a hole through which to loop back around to freedom (chewed your way through like the molds do), and even more importantly, you’ve got that last thing that i can identify with only in its absence from my life thus far: yer tribe.

i reckon you won the sweepstakes…and the relevance of everything rolls on & on & on.