This is what I know; I smoke to many god damn cigarettes. My hair is curled. I continue to do the same things over and over again expecting different results. I enjoy your touch. I think of the touch of someone miles away. I am tired, exausted. I have no amends to be made. Writing three pages every morning is a daunting task. I have to create or I will perish.

Today today and yesterday

Listening to Elvis Perkins. Made a delicious tofu scramble. I was ok enjoying it alone. Drinking Oolong tea, sitting in the sun flooding thru the windows. Procrastinating cleaning the kitchen and packing more.

I never realize how much stuff I have until I move. Mostly books, weird trinkets, and my camera collection. I haven’t lived with friends in over a year. I mostly lived with Tyler in Portland. This worked well. My kitchen is gigantic and I have my own little office to do…office stuff in?
I love making a home. Nesting. Is this because I’m a woman? Or because I had no home, except concrete, for two years.
fin.