I've been going through and clearing out old relics, garbage and driftwood.
It's hard living in the debris of a house of ghosts.
I am living the decay and wreckage of two years past, of ten years past, of thirty years past.
It's hard to remember who I was. There is an urgency, or else it just fade away a little more.
Who I was seeps out a little more like grey wash.
Every time has a canvas, an emotional background.
Mostly unnoticed but it drowns out everything, and any irrelevant thing that swims in it.
Backgrounds can swallow you up like quicksand. I'm up to my waist in cold steady dribs and drabs trying to remember.
But there is fire and pursuit of vision. There is feeling and will to transform.
Each day is slain in perfection.
Freedom is an iron pipe to the teeth.
It's bright bleeding living.
Another day above ground
this chance for redemption
to resolve the story as it will.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember part of dream from this morning.
In it it was nighttime and there was a fire down the street. So I had to keep watch to make sure it didn't get too close.
At one point I see a house that's decided that would already burn down the trees in their frontyard as some sort of preventative measure.
The fire kept showing up different houses, some near some far.
It's strange how lately I'll go to bed as late as 3:30am and then wake up without an alarm at about 8:45am.
Must be the time change thing. There's more light coming in my room in the morning.
I didnt want to have eating disorder, but i am feel so fat, darling, you know? it is in my head
I am really glad that you like my photos!
I wanna meditating, but still dont have time to concentrate..