imaginary numbers...

for days and days nothing but numbers. apparently, not even enough of them. days or numbers. that's a bit frustrating.

the number of stitches i knit after i got home. real. i could feel those. palpated. the wool is exceedingly fine and soft. the weight is small. the tricks-- in and out and in and out-- observable. i did this. i got that. hmm.

cheese should not be powdered, i've decided. hunger is a good sauce. but still. the only powder i want to associate with cheese is that lovely powdery white mold skin. the edible sort. powder mold is tastier than powder cheese.

it's late. between times. this hour is the realm of such discourse. odds and ends. odd endings.