Here it is, not much to say but just getting by.
Getting by and being alone. There's so much here. I have lost words to say things to you. I know you would understand.
I will write, I hope I won't for a long time.
Postcards to a stranger I wish existed. Written words from elsewhere. Excess thoughts and fragments of imagination.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Postcard to Alice #90211
I remembered telling you I want to write about better days. But better days are days when I can no longer write.
I don't know how things will be or how things have changed, if they really have. But all I could tell you is that I walk the streets with smiles. I see buildings like peaceful giants waving by.
I no longer look at people's expressions, I hardly notice them anymore.
When I walk I feel my feet are lighter and my steps are with rhythm. I enjoyed reading and drinking alcohol and finding peace as I do this.
It's wonderful, however long it may last.
I don't know how things will be or how things have changed, if they really have. But all I could tell you is that I walk the streets with smiles. I see buildings like peaceful giants waving by.
I no longer look at people's expressions, I hardly notice them anymore.
When I walk I feel my feet are lighter and my steps are with rhythm. I enjoyed reading and drinking alcohol and finding peace as I do this.
It's wonderful, however long it may last.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Postcard to Alice #90111
I have fixed things, perhaps one of the most important things. My Dad.
All of the things that went wrong with all of the boys in my life was a result of my anger for my Dad.
Now that has changed I feel relieved. Much better and hopeful.
All of the things that went wrong with all of the boys in my life was a result of my anger for my Dad.
Now that has changed I feel relieved. Much better and hopeful.
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