pt 2

And there were exclamations of joy and there were exclamations of despair and every night it took longer and longer to fall asleep and every morning came earlier and earlier until the whole night was spent sending fractal data off in little parcels, wrapped in good French linen, starched, stacked, adorned with sprigs of lavender. I watched the sun come up from the roof of the last building that would ever be built. The chant that emerged was this: "I build with buildings beneath me until I build no more." Every song that rang through the radio was called "Woman." Every time I tried to change the radio station, a brushfire started under my arms and I felt a strong draw to the Bay Area. Little changed, everything changed. Choosing a combo of two poles was/is still a choice. Weird cables ruled the air, thronged the sky. And there were exclamations of joy and there were exclamations of despair.