I don't know what to say here anymore. I feel bad about neglecting the site, but also lack motivation to write here most of the time.
This weekend I mourned the death and celebrated the life of my friend Allen, who died of cancer last week. He was only 16 years old.
I'm thrilled to see my old friends, but I also miss my new ones.
I'm living in a guest room in my parent's house. That's how I think of it now: my parent's house. Not my home.
I'm working retail again this summer. If I work retail again next year the increasing possibility of that career path continuing any further will cause my small intestine to leap up through my neck and throttle my brain out of mercy.
Life and I seem to be progressing at different speeds.
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(Un)Intentionally Blank
Comments
Re: (Un)Intentionally Blank
by
Jim Sturges
on Mon 10 Jul 2006 04:59 PM CDT | Permanent Link
It may be that if you'll write just a little bit every day, the knots in your gut will slowly disentangle themselves.
Your note-into-the-ether to your friend, from several weeks ago, touched me. I hope that the sentiment made it to your friend. "Working retail" is certainly better than being poor. But working retail and spending fifteen minutes a day with your journal or a blog is a lot better than being poor. Re: (Un)Intentionally Blank
by
Andrew
on Wed 16 Aug 2006 10:43 AM CDT | Permanent Link
"Life and I seem to be progressing at different speeds. "
Great line. It requires a poem to be written around it. Re: (Un)Intentionally Blank
by
Nick Janus
on Fri 25 Aug 2006 04:35 PM CDT | Permanent Link
Just another member of the huddled masses checking in...
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