Tuesday, December 3, 2013


Sometimes I suppose we forget where we are in the chapter of our own lives. I decided to take my laptop into my room, dreaming one day of a queen sized bed to stretch out in, and admire my newly painted door- glorious- and put on some bon iver. And it was this familiar feeling, like I'd done this and written it before, but it felt so new and novel- what do you mean turn off the noise of tv and retreat to a calm space. And the last thing I'd been listening to was the last chapters of Something Wicked This Way Comes. I hadn't remembered. How quick things fly in and out.

Nothing is stable in this newly painted space.

Walking and low body temperatures and lists that go on and on and never end - staring at spots, just like before but with things that suddenly remind you of a distance. You aren't the same anymore. And that door newly painted with the shiny brass nob- that was 16 years of waiting and that hallway door maybe 40. Perhaps it will do nothing to quiet the place but they were a beautiful thing to imagine into being.

But there is so much you want and desire. Where do I begin?

He said to dream with him, and worship him with my hands...

more later,


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