I guess that things are okay. Can't seem to find anything wrong with them, but I seem to be living in cycles and cutting myself off gradually.
I've read cycles, I don't have a cycle.
Wake after long, bright dreams.
Turn off the alarm.
Prepare.
Stumble into the snow.
Look out across the yard into the clouds and breathe in.
Ask for a great day.
Drive somewhere.
Lost in thought.
Wander.
Work reprieve work reprieve work reprieve longwalk work done.
Find connection and hold on.
A slow kiss goodnight.
William Faulkner.
Deep.
I don't have a cycle.
My brother is still gone, and I keep dreaming about him. Last night he was in Atlanta and I found a bass player whom I had just met but we knew each other well and we were gonna start a band but we had no drummer, Brian said he was in Atlanta staying in very pricey hotels, I drove a very very long way but never seemed to get where I was going, time is not linear. And I woke up to snow. Again. But it's okay.
Maybe all I need is a shot in the arm?



















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