These are some of the pages from my book Lost in a Jungle.
The other day i had to explain what freckles were. I said they are little dots that some people get where the sun hits instead of a tan. And that the people with freckles always hate them while the people who don't get them, like me, are always jealous.
Today i wrote a letter to a penpal. As i woke up three geese passed the window flying home for the winter. And i attended a lecture last night by Arun Ghandi. Still don't feel peaceful. I feel like punching my mattress till i run out of breath. Is that nonviolent? It's only a mattress.
Why is he reaching forward when the oar is angled backward? Maybe because i made it up. Just like the french i was dreaming the other day that was probably grammatically very incorrect.
