carville sabbie and each time i have to type it it keeps reinforcing the fact that today i don't understand who i am. and each time i think i've figured it out that i think i have it sorted in my head she comes along and once again by a word by a sentace throws me out tangles me up in words that are not my own in concepts i don't understand in the future that i'm not even sure, anymore, that there is space for me. how can i feel so insubstantial so transient so fucking temporary each time she opens her mouth? 031123 what's it to you? who go blather from