-
Who says you can't go home?
I have been picking up long hand journaling again. Rusty and resistant at first - unable to commit to the pen not leaving the page for a meager three sheets in that familiar but estranged Ye Olde Morning Pages way. My attention fragmented, I get up mid-page, mid-sentence and abandon the effort to do any number of unimportant things that could stand ( Read more... ) -
Habits, Braids, Know-It-Alls
Realizations brought to my awareness by Quarantine Times:
* My impulse response to a lot of things is "I know".
Does this make me a know-it-all? Even if I bite my tongue and 9/10 times edit myself before I fire back "I know". Noah likes to say "My baby's always right" and I like to say back "I have a high average". The result of so many years ( Read more... ) -
She wants to go to the Seaside
Change of scenery brought with it this sort of out of body experience where I kept realizing that it was all so beautiful and holy that it was hard to stay present and process it. Incredibly similar to taking walks these days and feeling the sad beauty of this world so intensely. But too, in this my most revered place of worship, a long held dream ( Read more... ) -
Coronaregression
In keeping with the times, being what they are - slowing down and paying attention, reviving old hobbies, returning back to a pace in the spiral of life before time seemed to speed up exponentially- I have come back for a spell on the comfy well worn, threadbare but still intact couch of el-jay. Location of embarrassing admissions, sweet tender ( Read more... ) -
Best finest surgeon, come cut me open
There's something so comforting about El-jay. Like boyfriend jeans. Or comfy warm fur lined bedroom slippers. Or your favorite armchair at your favorite bookstore. Sumpin' about it is just so right. -
She's been everybody else's girl, mabe someday she'll be her own
I'm a bit rusty on blogging in the comfy anonymity of lj. Starting another lj especially after perusing my old journals (relics of the past now) feels awkward like writing the first few lines in a pristine hard cover journal with a stiff unbroken spine ( Read more... )