"Humble yourself" dear Benjamin. How good it feels, the cold air passing through the hollowed bones. You are nervous, full of nerves. Rest assured that no matter which was elected president, there will be a child in some gray part of the world who wears the same clothes everyday, yet still wipes the oozing snot from his kisser with it, every day. Only if he hasn't already learned to eat it instead. A clear path from his nose to his lips. Salty like margaritas. He has nerves as well. He is nervous too. Only if he hasn't already been crushed by concrete block with rebar. And his complex nervous system stretched apart like rubberbands, ripping. Well, here I am, jerking off again in text. It was a lovely drive to work this morning. The sky was clear, the sun was out. I sat at Tartine in my wool sweater, had a berry scone, a double latte, and listened to my iPod (Whops, I almost forgot to check the company stock). I won't trade it all for a cave in the mountains, or a gun.