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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.


I'm Gish. I guess this is what one can call the remnants of a pre-mid-life crisis. I listen to too much music and read too many books, and it all means nothing. Abrasive, I smoke too much, drink too much coffee and hardly sleep. Alive. Be sure to check out the new links to blogs, photos, music and other sorts of good stuff at the very bottom of the page.


only when you aren't looking

Sweet cherries in my mouth, my fingertips turn a pale pink from the juice. The pits and stalks remind me of the movie, The Witches of Eastwick. The Rolling Stones whine to me about wild horses and Buckley is chasing a green grape around the room.

Spring bank park, today. I'm beginning to wonder if it's normal to want to be unconscious most of the time. In fact, I prefer to be unawake. But I've said that before. Now I just think about it when no one else is looking.

I don't know how some do it, but I'm having a hard time with the day to day motions of living. I was in the darkest place a week ago, I guess I finally turned off the flashlight that I have been carrying. And I sent it to someone else.

Anyway, got the flashlight back in my possession. I know you don't really know what I'm talking about. But I'd rather it be here, than swirling around in my head like a toxic potion. I KNOW I can call anyone I want to talk.

But now, I just feel like a burden and don't want to press those buttons. So, I leave the phone in it's place on the kitchen counter. I'll just stay unconscious until it's time to go back to work.

This really is as good as it gets.

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