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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.

home sick for my mommy

So I've been in a funk lately. Not news by any means if you've been reading long enough, but I am attributing this recent bout of lacklusterness to homesickness. I got soome shitty news about my health the other day and any time I am sick, I immediately want to be in the confines of my childhood home, or wherever my mom is, since I don't really have a childhood home. Homes, maybe, but not just one.

In any event, I haven't felt like updating or taking pictures or anything really other than going straight to bed after dinner and then waking up every two hours to have a smoke and paint a little bit on the wall with ink-black paint in swirls and branches. It's crazy, I know. Everything about me is. Feels like.

You want to talk crazy...lets go over a couple of other things that I've done the past couple of days.

During a work assignment, I was at someone's house. When I left, I knew I was taking a little dog with me. His name is Bailey, he's been abandoned by his owners and he needs a place to chill until he breathes his last. He's 12, that's why I wrote that last little bit. The funky thing about this little guy is that he is going blind...leave it to me to do something like this, but I gotta tell you...having a little warm body in bed with me at night makes it that much easier. He's a god send, at this point.
Bailey

Then today, in the mail this arrives...
box o goodies
The last few seasons of Oz and a few other things...woo!

Then I remembered that I had ordered a couple of movies gift wrapped. Nuts, I know. But I like opening presents...even if it means I sent them to myself.
gift wrap

complete with a note...
note to self

Ah....a Cusack movie I haven't seen and you should see my face now, all aglitter.happy

I'm listening to sad Counting Crows music and looking over the table at the box of dvds and the juice glass full of Arctic Cotton blossoms and I realise this is my home, so I should stop being sick over it.

My fingers type words that aren't even in my mind and I find I'm hitting the Delete key more often than not. I know what you've been reading here the past few months has been clumsy and not by any means slick and easy the way it used to be. But clumsy is what's on the menu for awhile.

Bon apetit.G.

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