Behind the entry bench, the van gogh blue umbrella wedged at a 35 degree angle hadn't been wrap-snapped first. This would bother me, were it not wet and needing to freely drip on the hardwood floor by the baseboards. This would bother me, but for the carelessly lain pink scarf inadvertantly pooling, sopping beyond its mohair fringe. This would… Continue reading ocd vestibule
The creation and the embodiment of energy, what they’ve invested in, valued, now mingling impossibly here...
Straddling two worlds before a big move...
What is it like to be both the healer, and the one in pain? I'll bet you know.
I am convinced that notificataions on my phone and laptop are the bane of this tecno existence. They are the poking of a button that reminds directly the addictive release of endorphins to be near. "Hey--pellets available!" - the Pavlovian response. "Hey--do this release. Don't think." Deliberation is delayed for immediate cessation of curiosity. An… Continue reading Notified of My Addiction?
Will was too busy after all to attend me in Newcastle. I museum-delved without him to see a marble statue visible though the window. Lovers entwined, ecstatic kiss. Every angle a blissful depiction. Feeling worse, I exit to the sloping street. Wander, wander, wander. Then a barrel-shaped wagon on a pedestrian triangle. Bright colors, purple red,… Continue reading Gypsy Wagon
But I can’t believe that living space doesn’t matter. I am in a mood to design yet another perfect residence.