(this entire post should be in parentheses)

i have been thinking more and more about the things that propelled me to throw everything away while i was on the island for christmas, because it wasn't just moving. i guess i have been thinking that maybe i can gradually destroy all evidence of my detailed existence in any physical past, i can go to the bedrooms and mailboxes of all the people i have known and quietly take all the letters i have written and pictures i am lurking in the background of and just put them somewhere. or get rid of them, but when you put things in the trash they do not stop existing. i don't think that the average person considers things like this when they toss away grapefruit rinds and credit card solicitations. "matter cannot be created or destroyed or created be cannot matter." at the same time i want to knit myself behind a wall of white yarn in a garage filled with crystal teardrops on toothfloss and pale feathers shellacked to the walls. i want to cover my hands in glue or gloss medium or wax and then peel it off when it dries into a translucent glove. i want to fold mythical animals out of tissue paper and line up glasses filled with water to all different points and lick my fingers and run them along the edges of the glass and find different tones and then rearrange them, and then maybe i will just stop existing and if i had destroyed all the letters and pictures and sharpied my face out of your yearbook (which i did not sign) i wonder if anyone would notice and maybe it would be nice if they would not.