Whenever. Wherever. Whatever.

So in early summer I wrote this story called Heart & Lion, a deeply personal examination of myself and my emotions, my Faith, and what was to be an unattainable romance. A few people read it, but I didn’t release it. Whatever. These are just my thoughts. Welcome to my blog. Haven’t written here in a while. Wrote lots of stories between, grim stuff, good stuff. Here I am, later on in life, a few months—a lifetime.

I'm chilling. Sipping Eucalyptus Tea. The sun is out, sky is blue, grounds and mountains are wet and white, and outside my window the roof drips. I figure I'll write about it. To you. If that's cool?

Sometimes I rewind. Close my eyes and go back to the places I've been. See people again, certain skies and uncertain stars, beneath which these memories play out, again and again. Then suddenly—I need a haircut occurs to me. Cut shorter, I think. Fuck it. I find long hairs on the nape of my cardigan. Shedding like a damn cat. I love cats. I make the call and schedule it.

Back to dreaming. I've got a story to finish, though I'd rather dream than write. Right now, that is. I dig back, transport my thoughts and mind to…

Whenever. Wherever. Whatever.

You get the drift.

Speaking of which, I don’t do much theses days. Just float around feeling moderately sick and depressed. Though I’ve watched some good films. Read some good books. Fueled myself with weighty workouts and loud jazz, the occasional rap record on repeat. I don’t miss work. Long live the seasonal death of the season, as it were, being my ready sentiment. Miss my crew though. Good shit, those guys and gals.

But soon I’ll dislodge myself from this. Feel better, etcetera. Today is just bleak. Too many comas, not enough words. I vaguely recollect going somewhere with it all this, I can’t remember though. Honesty is bland.

Maybe I was going to make a point. Something life changing and hopeful. Instead I think I’ll just...not.