i thought about breaking up with the blog. i went back to the blog i started before this blog. this is true. it's not that penelope and i haven't been getting along, we've just gotten "busy"... i forget to check in with myself. my rambling lacquacious self disappears with routine and listlessness. then i start thinking, what am i doing here. do i care? is it important? why do i continue? i think i'll just post picture after picture and not take the time to say anything- bcs i begin to think, i have lots of pictures and- well... i don't have anything to say. nothing interesting is happening, and yet i KNOW this can't be true. 
My harsh and admonishing godmother has gotten the best of me because if i had not been sleep walking i would take the time to tell you about the following things:
i witnessed the birth of a baby.
i felt the vibrations of a voice through my hand.
i rode my bike in the light of the full moon.
i participated in a wretched art fair but incidently felt incredibly blessed by friends.
i helped to found a new church.
i'm still jobless.
the garden is growing.
i continue to drop glasses and even managed to flip a fresh icecube tray over in the freezer. there was stalgmites trailing to the bottom.
i still think about escaping the country.
i'm reading don quixote.
i had my birthday.
i had many conversations and emails and movies and i cut up a credit card. 
my brother called and i barely recognized his voice.
currently a re-run of the O.C. is on and my right leg jogs with the thought of exercise.
oblivion pulls me and my mind races blank.
 
Less words.
ReplyDeleteMore pictures of slugs, please.