I loved the heat register in my home. Pretty vents decorating the floor, making things warm and cozy; I’m a fan of both. I sat on top of them when I was a child, nightgown spread wide to capture the warm air, a tiny parachute of heat, my quilt on my lap to make sure that no warm air was lost to my bedroom’s surrounds. … Continue reading The register.
My life feels odd. I’m adrift mentally and emotionally. I’m still bleeding from a multiplicity of wounds received in rapid succession. Things have calmed enough now to feel and attend to them. My brain is also starting to calm. My thinking brain is turning back on. Things don’t go well for me when reactivity is driving the bus. I don’t have much in the way … Continue reading puttering.
I can’t write. It’s not working for me right now. I think it’s because I’ve got things locked up tight. There’s too much going on, too much that has to get done, and too many petty grievances. If I let things go, only a crater will remain. Perhaps I can send out invitations to those who annoy? I do find water painting to be a … Continue reading spring morning.
(I’m not writing much these days. The words are trapped inside behind emotions I don’t want to deal with. I miss it, but the wall is impressive. On the bright side, it prevents chaos. And yet. Once upon a time (or almost five years ago), I wrote more poetry (and published the same on Tumblr). I was looking at some of it yesterday and found … Continue reading You should be me.