There’s my way, or there is get out of the car. Sometimes, I will agree to photograph an event. But if I do it my way (like deal with actual people) I will edit out my big fat autistic mouth. How I experience the event will usually seep into the photograph. I will not be aware of it. It always dawns on me later, later alligator. My optics are from satellite spy tech. The cameras here are as big as a cigarette lighter. I’m always late. Jump into the car. It begins to rain. Whenever the masks get this wet, it’s like the CIA has us enrolled secret water torture programs but we’re stupid so the airport sliding doors began to open and close, open and close why are you standing in the rain. It looked like the beginning of another year of it. Time and place will lead the way because time and place could be the same phenomenon. You never know. Could be terrorists. I have this problem with women while the reality suggests, it’s really officiousness I cannot be around. Life is far too short. You never really know where you are or when. All the experts, all the cops, all the bus drivers, all the cops will shoot you dead, all the wheels on the bus go round and round and round and round the doctors on the bus said get me off this fucking bus get me off this fucking bus move on back move on back. You are crushing the people in the rear of the bus. Crush Crush Crush. We have no bananas today.