The metaphorical road that leads to the real road.



been making a lot of books. Stretching to keep the shoulder from falling off. Taking care of all the things that I could possibly think of to try to take care of, and trying to let go of those things that I know I’m forgetting. Getting ready to pack up the van. Stitch sew  headband stitch sew  headband. Ran out of glue. Waiting for more. Sitting on massive pile of leather, sitting next to massive piles of leather. Filling up these funny shows that my friend Ralph help me make.

In any case I’m feeling pretty good. Been putting a lot of thought into my interactions with myself and with other people and how those two separate seeming kind of interactions are actually very much intertwined. It seems that if I’m really keeping myself busy working on me and mine then my judgments of others seem to slip away and I start to understand that nobody is ever fucked me over… Maybe… Maybe they were just wrapped up in their own, and I took it personally. Now I’m not saying that I’m living this martyred life or that I’ve had a really hard go of it, but to be honest I think everybody’s life is hard… Maybe everybody’s life is the hardest life because how do you really gauge such a thing?

So anyhow I’ve been listening to hours of awesome music and just relaxing allowing my adults to fall off and turning back into that funny totally unknowing child that first left Philly those years ago. Almost 10 years Woof.

So I will be easy on myself, take my time because it’s the only thing that is really mine.Try  to make something of this, try to realize that something is already made of this and it’s for me to just explore and love and treat well.

Got to give true respect for the fact that I am able to stand to see To breathe to interact with this craziness. So much thank you.

Coming soon: travel porn.

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