Communicator, cooker, drinker, poet. Grew up in a mining town, wore a hard hat.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

not quite right.

the divide between my dream life and my waking life is beginning to collapse in on itself. things have happened but other people haven't lived them. my speech is slurred and my eyes are tired. i know that i'm not right. not quite right. crooked, you might say. or crazy.