I cannot disclose to you where I am. I cannot share with you what I am doing.

Just please know that I am safe. I am with a loved one. There is the sound of the water.

Wave after wave. Nature is all around. The sky is so big and bright.

I wonder if I should continue promoting my hour special taping even

though it is done. June 13th at the Palace of Fine Arts is when it was. I did two shows. I toured all over the country in preparation.

You can buy tickets anymore because it already happened. It is now in the past.

Just like that, it is over. The waves are crashing all around me.

The sun is dancing. The sun and the waves are doing an intrico tango.

The reflection of the waves is shimmering on the ceiling like a sheet of silk.

I am not alone. I am not alone. I plan to watch many movies back to back and eat many roasters. Is that relatable

here or whatever. It doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter if you're

relate or not. This is life. This is and stand up. This is life. I am a fish

underwater. I am a bird in the sky. I am a fly passing around an empty oyster shell. I am a grover of eucalyptus trees.

I am a mound of dirt with a forgotten nickel on it, glinting. I am a tube of travel toothpaste that is squeezed flat and almost finished.

I am an old paperback book resting open on a wooden table.

All my pages are flapping in a breeze.

The sun is erasing my words. My pages are flapping in a breeze.

The sun is erasing my words.

The sun is erasing my words.

The sun is erasing my words.

The sun.

The sun.

...