clean up...
I think i found a singular happy place this evening. Sitting in my basement, reading a book I recently was given, listening to Miles Davis and drinking a glass of wine. Everything that reminds me of failure has been packed into a form fitting case or taped into a box. Nothing except the simple feeling of wanting a cigarette put a notch in me.
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I had a similar experience the other night in the middle of the Philadelphia airport, of all places. They've filled the place with all of these white rocking chairs, and while at first I thought it was odd, my opinion rapidly changed after spending about two and a half hours perched in one while I was waiting for a flight. Happy as a clam:) Hadn't been that relaxed in months.
Well anyway... I'm glad you found a happy place dear. *hug*
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