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Barely, but solidly, she lives.

My mind is feeling less on-track. Less able, and very tired. How much longer can these moods last?

Found a great bookstore on Northside. Went yesterday and spent 20 dollars on “The book of Martyrdom + Artifice”, a collection of Allen Ginsberg’s journals, “Beat Poets”, a little handy copy of some beat writers, and a study guide for AP PSYCH.. The catch? All the books are half price of their original sale price. It’s a consignment bookstore, you could say. Pretty nifty.

I’m focusing my writing on healing relationships. My brother’s and mine for one. I’ve already got three poems out, painfully. We’ll see where it goes, yeah?


Let the sun shine.

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