kenyon

i'm back from the vermont clinic. it was my favorite, as always. we looked at my blood through the microscope on a computer screen, and it was weird; i could actually see how it's healing. slowly.

they switched around my complicated treatment regimen so much that the confusion of it all is making my insomnia worse. i'm such a fucking perfectionist, even at being ill.

the freshly fallen snow was beautiful, the way it changes how sound carries, and how it gives back the light. fewer radio waves bouncing around there i bet. i just felt less aggro in general. more soothed, for the glass-half-full types. i think about relocating to places like that, but i'm such a half-breed between country mouse and city mouse, and am therefore torn.

i find myself, due to non-frivolous endeavors, in such unbelievable debt that i'm in the considering phase of making oil painting simply to sell in galleries here in the little waterfront towns outside of providence. i've done this type of art-whoring before. it's not that bad. i do end up feeling slightly guilty when something i've spent four hours on and slapped a frame around sells for more than i feel it's worth, but i'm not complaining. (for the record, i am not a great visual artist, and i'm not being modest. if i follow through i will photograph the goods and post them as evidence.)

am still doing odd jobs, and am grateful for the trickle of cash, but it's not giving me me that satisfying $ pop. this is how sexwork ruins; i need several hundred smacked down in front of me at a time to feel like i'm earning anything.

weird. this is what the sun looks like in the morning, eh?



i'm going back to bed!