So I guess I'm blogging again. Something compelled me to... I realized that this is an outlet that I might need. There's a lot I can do in my head (some who know me will say that I do too much in my head), but occasionally I can only make sense of things by writing them down and getting them out of my mental space. Like once it's out there, I can look at the thought objectively, and see what it means to me.
Been feeling the need to write more. I started writing on little scraps of receipt paper at work today. Again, just the pressing need to expunge the thought, get it out of my brain and onto the paper. It's a lot like blowing my nose. A LOT like blowing my nose actually. There was a dude looking at some track pants on the other side of the rack I was sribbling against. It struck me as I was writing that what I was doing was so starkly intimate, and surrounded on all sides by public pedestrian shopping space... Trackpants guy had no fucking idea what was going on, but he was so physically close to it. That's a hopelessly inadequate summation of the tension I felt at the moment, but suffice to say that if Trackpants happened to cross over to my side of the rack and read my little slip, we would both have been slapped in the face stunned bucket of cold water on the bed deer in the headlights.
I hope Mikey keeps his blog going. It's pretty entertaining. "Although Mr. Clean was not, in fact a real person, he was modeled after a rugged sailor. Thank you for your interest". Or something. Finding Roaches in the Pot. It's good. It's good. Jess's blog is also good, but everyone already goes there. On that note, since no one reads this, that link above is probably no good to Mikey at all. Fuck
.... To be continues
trying to make sense but really grasping at ghosts more i try to avoid it the more it hurts and the more i try to attack it the more it hurts i don't even want to use a pronoun here that pronoun is laden with so much meaning and significance and identity i don't even remember before i don't remember how to exist i can't get my head around what it is that i might have to do and what i want to say here i can't i just can't pleasei don't think anyone is reading this, but if you are, i'm sorry, i couldn't find a pen