am I drunk? transitions are for the birds.

I thought I lost my little hoop upper ear piercing today forever, but then I found it. It turned out I took it off in bed, but I was really really really sleepy so I didn't remember doing it. Good story. I'm so glad I have a blog for this kind of important shit.

*

I'm writing this poem; it's so disgusting. I feel sick when I think of how much I hate it. But I have to keep going because it's the first poem-thing I've written in 6-9 months. I should instead write another poem about dead thistles, as if I don't have enough poems about fucking thistles. Someday, I will be a real person.

*

Everything I have tried to do today I have failed at. This is to include: putting away some socks, writing shitty poems, writing shitty other things, cheering you up, this goddamn roasted chicken, bathtub laundry, spinning this post to sound funny and upbeat instead of hysterical and dramatic, looking good in the face region, putting on pants, finding a job, washing the cat, not being, as I already mentioned, pathetic.

*

Great, and now my ear is bleeding.

*

I have officially gotten to the point in my job hunt desperation where I view good job news from my unemployed friends with a mild jealous dismay instead of loving friendship pride, and then I feel guilty and miserable about it all day.

*

The last time I was at Joe and Chris's, I stepped on some glass. It didn't really hurt, but when I walked up the stairs, my footprints were bloody. I have had not one but three nightmares about this now.

*


This part of Virginia has good hiking twenty minutes away. Here is some of it.

Ice in the ground.

We tried to ford the river, but the path was washed out.

A solution presented itself.
Moss still grows in the winter.

Distantly, Mt. Doom.



Half-way down on the side of this particular mountain, there was an old-fashioned car crashed into a tree.



These are my fightin' boots.



Post-hike half-asleep self portrait with half-asleep B.