"I'm celebrating," he said, "Every day is a new record."

He's drinking a Coke, celebrating. That's how he is. All he's talking about is being alive. Which, when you think about it, is worth celebrating, I guess. Another day, another record. Ten years ago he didn't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out. Wanted to curl up in a drainage pipe and die. Almost did. Woke up, though. Now he's here, celebrating.

And me, I struggle with the internet, the picturebooks, the blogs, the walls, the messaging. Want everyone to remember that this is a real-life lattice of human hearts and souls. Don't want us to forget this. Don't want to forget that we are connected. That we are connected in a way that is real and raw and meaningful and doesn't have anything to do with electronics or gadgetry. Don't want to forget this. It is first. But I want to use these gadgets as sticks - want to draw pictures in the sand, want to dance out, to show off, to shake up a sense, a rhythm, a reminder that we are all one.

So.

I bring you this great mound;
It is me,
It is we.

Every day is a new record.