pop

it’s been a long week. i’ve slept very little and i’ve had a hard time with everything.  i’ve picked up a picture book project i started a long time ago since it felt like i had a lot of things to write about and had stumbled upon a shoe box full of images that started to tell me stories.  i drank several chocolate stouts ate handfuls of raisins and swam a lot.  things are nice underwater.  it feels safe there.  i want to take a vacation there.  sing songs to myself. 

i’ve been listening to a lot of etta james lately. 

i think i need to start listening to instrumentals.  words just seem to make me feel squidgy and weird. like i want to claw my way out of my own skin, the only thing  holding my blood and  guts in, one puncture and there it goes.  we’re all just bones and spaghetti inside.  some more spaghetti than others. 

i popped a zit last night. it was satisfying.

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