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About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

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Originally uploaded by Abstract Magdalene.

A lost weekend, asleep in a curl beneath blankets and the soft whir of the ceiling fan above. Alternating between too warm and too cold, shifting covers when the need arose.

Been thinking a lot about people in my life, the ones that slip through your fingers or the ones you toss away because the sting of knowing them has lasted for too long. I'm not a good people person. In fact, I would be the perfect candidate for someone to be banished to a deserted island to wile away their days. Sounds comforting, even. But even more so, to just accept that you're not good with relationships of any kind.

Doesn't matter, though. There isn't any prize at the end of the road, awarding your outstanding performance in the relationship arena. No claps on the back or hearty handshakes. So why bother? Just hard to swallow sometimes. Like so many things.

Shrimp cocktail, gin and tonic and the Sopranos last night. My eyes deceive me, I'm not one for figuring out plots beforehand, so I was a little shocked to see what was unfolding. God bless me, I still love Tony Soprano. In a bad way.

Buckley and I in Springbank park this weekend. He gasps when we get there, straining on his leash to be let loose so he can rabbit around. Faster than a speeding bullet. That's my little boy.

Work time. I can't find words to say. Maybe more later.

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