everything I've written since before I was about fifteen, every picture I snapped, every song I heard, everything, is gone as of two thursdays ago. I am realizing, quite shamefully, that perhaps in losing "everything", I've really lost nothing. it's obvious I don't write very much, a half-glance at this pitiful excuse for a blog will tell you that.
This morning I woke up in a stranger's guest's bed (of which I was not: the guest nor the bed), tripped on the the trick-step of the door and onto a bed of grass, green garnish on dinner plate tipped into the mouth of the ocean. I'm telling you, it was unreal, and everyone around me was so excited, tumbling and dancing, the ultimate dinner and a show, and all I could do was stand next to these two fucking chairs, that is to say, these two chairs that were fucking, which is embarrassing yet oddly intriguing - you know exactly what I mean - which only made it all the more awkward, which is sort of like flailing your arms and braying, only without any of the confidence required for such activities.
At work today I strode up and down the aisles, brow furrowed with the intensity required in pretending to be busy - which adds up to A Lot - and I wondered about my life. I'm watching my peers create beautiful things, dance and tumble things that are not always perfect but are so real, so alive, and all I can do is stand at stasis next to the two fucking inatimate objects which, in their fucking are more alive than me.
Daaaaaang!
Which is to say that I will try to write regular updates weekly now, and perhaps more than that.
I see you, can you see me? I'll be shining a bit more light, tell me if you see it.
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