I now live on a mountain between big boulders. So tall the sun and the moon and the stars have one hell of a hill to crawl.
Strange but just 2 months ago I was homeless, or what you would call.
I've known people living in mansions who have never had a home at all.
Watch out for rattlesnakes, they're getting close to home.
Sitting at the counter working. Hot air filled with the smell of sage, rosemary, and some kind of wood? It's fire (not in the literal sense).
Dora napping in my lap. Base beating music is better than trap.
Sipping on salt water. Damn desert evaporates my sweat too well.
Sometimes I walk around the grocery store for fun. Hand cart sling over one arm. Serious look on the face. Take my time through aisles, contemplating options. Checking labels. Deciding and undeciding.
Leaving with none.
The longer you go without eating the easier it is to not eat. That's one thing I'll say on repeat.
Ericaisms, neat.
Bathing tonight in milk and honey (literally), waiting for the full moon to crawl.
Candles burning on the fireplace mantle. Fireplace burning to keep away the chill. Hot milky water to steep me like a tea bag.
4 gallons of milk and 5 pounds of honey.
Burn some bay leaves. Let go of tired things.
Knowing which mail gets opened doesn't matter that much, after all.
Worked out two days in a row.
Feeling my muscles wanting to grow.
I stop to write little things all day long now. That book is coming whether I like it or not.
Reconnected with an old friend. She used to come with me to photo shoots back in the day. Fondly referred to her as my “fluffer”. I've missed her, that's all.
“Well, I'm glad you're not dead!” I said within minutes of the call.
Hopefully this moon will remove what feels like a short-term vex.
Burn and write and sleep and ache and work and find reasons to laugh and smile.
Rinse, repeat, scrub it all clean.
One of these days I'll find a church again. But only if they'll let Dora in.