and there it goes. wind blown and all over the place. what the fuck is on my shoes. stepped in shit, wiped it off and kept on. the horizon from here, clovis, is glowing at half past 6. its till early in the year for a 5am wake up call. the grey light, suits me well. fitted and found a fortune. a quick discussion of death, or two of them in one day brought back memories of where i was, recently and found by friends in the middle of the street. word spreads like wild fire. the bad news. i ripped my handlebars out of the top tree and dropped them mid flight. a broken wrist. tomorrow i fly to portland and sleep in another bed suited for two. that old sign that hung above the door way at 131 center st. santa cruz california. "begin again" and i have.