a strange couple of days, they have been. It hasn’t happened like this in quite a while.

There is only so much room for all the things I subconciously supress to make it through the days, knowing better than but can’t help but regret past decisions and they way they haunt me. I’ve never wanted a ‘normal’ life, but I want the freedom to do normal things. I took that away from me in my adolescent death wish, and now…

So many things hidden inside. I try to get most of them out, but there has been an absence of the creative process or much capability to do anything with it in all my moving around. I look forward to an apartment that I can call mine, unpack the bags I have been living out of for over nine months, and actually have – a home. I found the city, now I simply need the door to close and things set up to create and destroy. I want to try my hand at painting when this happens, and see where it takes me. See what ends up on the canvas. See what I release.

It’s been a hell of a couple days. I know the first trigger, then from that sobbing uncontrollably for Bean yesterday, then the swing from the pressure of tears as I tried not to cry to bloodred rage and thoughts of violence and release, along with guilt for not folowing through on a promise i made because of these things.

It’s forever night in this room. No light but the bare incandescent bulbs. I walked today to the Mississipy, and stood on the bank for some time. That helped. That helped a little. Just simply hearing the gentle splash of water as the wakes from the barges and cargo ships came to eht shore and caressed the rocks.

That helped a little. I needed this day, needing to be alone but wishing i were well enough to have people around me. A strange feeling. I think I’m getting better. I think I’m locking it down again. I need to get out of this apartment, walk down to lower Decatur for the third time today, perhaps the Dervish, perhaps Tiki’s, perhaps nothing.

The good news is that because of work and all the walking I’m doing in general, muscles are coming back in my legs and arms. It’s nice how my body still remembers what it used to be when I was younger.

Now, I just need a pool to do laps in, or a good break so I can take up surfing again. Probably the former is more reasonable.

In other news, in the apartments in this building, the spiral staircases beg for waterslides.
It would make getting upstairs a bitch, though.

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