once was, will be again

So many times I miss the solitude, bred when I first started driving my little van to my litttle secret spot in Austin where I could pirate a wireless connection. That’s when I knew how important it was.

I have houses and animals to watch, I have a roof over my head – for now. But…

but for almost a year, i have not had a home – a true home, that I could make mine. Call my own. Decorate to my tastes, set up my altar, the sacred things. There has never been a place that I could come to and feel grounded in that time, except, pathetically, for my van. Unfortunately, that is gone too. Maybe it’s a message – the fucked up leg, the irretrivably towed van – time to find a home.

My home.

My books are being reviewed in ten days, perhaps finding a publisher – and warranting these two comments through people that I believe can make things happen…

Dearest kSea and Jacqueline,
Wow, i feel i have just been cc’d a jewel!
i would still like to make that movie!
Bliss
Pamela

Dear Pam & KSea,

This effort is amazing. I started the first book and realized it needed serious time to digest.
I’m producing a concert series currently that is relying on 100% of my attention.
Could you both send me a reminder to review this on August 12th?
I would like to give it my full attention for review.

Much Love,
Jacqueline

Hope. It’s still there. I think.

The magazine is moving forward. Other things I am desperately fighting for to become financially stable enough to find an apartment. To remember the life i had, but better – because it is mine, created by me – and most importantly, someone appreciates it…

Someday, soon. It needs to be soon.

I’ve been blessed with a strange combination of dark optimism. I know the sorrow that life is, but I also know the beauty that is everywhere. I’ve fallen, I’ve grown. I am not here in vain.

Without you, I would never have known that. I hope you know that you are. All of you. So many. You are where I find my strength – or, at the very least, the will to keep going.

Thank you.

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