follow me down to the valley below

home smells of garlic. I smile at my reflection.

the home front smells of garlic, while far and away brings sights and sounds of sentient life. your reflection winks and waves, dancing shyly away.

and that's all i have. "real" life has been intruding on the imagined creative existence I once had.

ten years after

Things just seem to keep happening, in the randomly slow way they usually seem to, and I just sort of hang around until it all converges --usually three or four weeks later- and begin to stress.

By all rights, I should be going through all of my stuff, and getting rid of anything that isn't me, productive, or that doesn't improve my overall existence.

Instead, I'm listening to techno while J watches So You Think You Can Dance.

I need to start writing again. I know I keep saying that, but I absolutely must keep writing. Its the only thing I can do that will keep me sane.

For now, I'll try to do some rummaging, and see if that relieves some of the stress.

for now,

Jr