I started my day (for the second time) with a lonely art therapy session, continuing intermittently throughout the morning until I eventually created this atrocity. I guess I’ll call it Tread Softly. Whatever. I had purchased some acrylic pant and this was my first time. The result is what could be described as a Water-Based fit of blue and gold. The black of course exists of its own accord.
Also, I proudly display my “heap” as dubbed by the roommate. It is constantly evolving. Before he moved in I maintained multiple heaps and piles. Mostly books and paper and shit. It was much worse a few years ago.
Today, I’m narrowed down to an average of two heaps in predictable places at any given time. Mostly the bar with a good 360 degree view of mostly the things with a good reason to affect me. I’m making a lot of progress. They really need a support group for this sort of thing. What would it be called? What sort of people would I expect to meet there?
I’m not a hoarder, just a graphomaniac.
Finally, yesterday’s high point. Judge me as you wish. Maybe I’m a loser. But a certain someone gave the blessing of her voice when she read to me quite beautifully for nearly an hour. I think this might be love. Though I’m no good at it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! Well, I may be a recluse and a fanatic narcissist, hell I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’ve been working through all the bullshit in my own little desolate world for what seems ages. I’m tired of being lonely. She knows I have problems. I think she’s had a taste first hand. Not to mention she’s familiar with my writings.
She seems to know how to crack my codes.
I aimed to just post these pictures; I haven’t had much of the urge to write today. Yet here it seems I’ve written a good several words likely none of which make sense. I’m worn the fuck out, but it’s all alright. Great weekend so far. Dare not say I’m happy.
Something still stalks me.