There is something in my head that won’t leave me and I don’t know how to capture it, and it’s a picture that I can barely see. It is a ghost of an emotion and a time for me to dwell by the river, and the river is a tree which has a noise that draws me, and that is where I die and where I want to die, and it is where I can fill my heart with the crumbs of earth
This week I published a book. That’s a pretty good sentence, isn’t it. Let’s just watch it for a minute….
A few years ago I wrote a novel. It’s unpublished, despite a few good efforts at getting a traditional publisher….
I’ve always thought storm clouds to be beautiful. Often when I’m sad I’ll reach for a work that resides in…
We both thought I might be a rebel. It would have been nice. They get to hang with General Leia, after all.
Close your eyes. Let the busy mind go. See what you see. An unexpected keepsake.
this too, you see
will fade.
I used to look at older people when I was young and think it must be lovely not to be a tangle of uncertainties and social awkwardnesses. I think it was a mirage. Maybe it was a straight out con.
that’s one way I deal with pain. To see it as part of me. And as part of recovery. I guess I’m remapping my brain, and distracting it from a painful sensory overload.
And, now, here I am, unravelling some of the tangles life left me.