out to sea. forever and ever, drifting out at sea.
unreal. surreal. no real.
WIll there come a time when the unexpected and horrific deaths of people I’ve know will cease to carve out my insides?
Pre-dentist post PT.
the rest part 2. owls love to party
the rest of the bottle - part 1.
like Alice in Wonderland.
cork of yay
nap
Century City T. Rowe Rice waiting room on Tax Day
learning to write left-handed.
I wrote a letter to an old, old, once was friend. She wrote me a letter a year or two ago that I didn’t answer. Things went bad when we were kids in our fucked-up youth. Little atrocities were committed. But I’m tired of holding on to that.
It’s kind that she cared after all these years. She said she still feels regret.
Regret is a poison. I wrote back this morning. I said I forgive you. And I remember all the crazy fun we once had, on the boardwalk in Ocean City, back when we were kids.
So maddening. What are you supposed to do when someone makes well-meaning but stupid and inaccurate comments about your awesome still frames of Twin Peaks that you posted in an effort to share your love of the dynasty and attempt to be a part of the earth by using goddamn Facebook? (I mean it.)
This may be a stay in and watch Twin Peaks while listening to the rain kind of day.
Sometimes she likes to sleep with her head on my feet.
