carter raze i can't remember how i found you. i think i was looking for something i didn't really care about, and there you were instead. an accident of some archaic algorithm that's never been explained. you sang: "and you know that i'm a baby to cry, but did you ever stop to wonder why those little things make such bigger things when the past is overemphasized?" you insisted jesus was alive and living in london. you said he slept on your couch last night. you spoke of your garden. a haven for snakes. you claimed every word that left your lips was a fancy piece of fiction. rivers of rum. an ocean of cream. all your lies rang true to me. i loved you then like i love you now, though you were already bones with a bullet where your brain should have been. if only god had made you a few inches shorter, you'd still be here. and maybe we'd be friends, with nothing between us but twelve hundred miles and two tired smiles. 230118 what's it to you? who go blather from