coming home.

home is in the moments i feel safe, in his voice, her hips, his arms, her eyes. home is flying down the highway blasting music, i think my residence currently lies somewhere near 70 mph.

you told me it's ok to come home, so i might.

here is a brief summation of the past week or so, because i really don't have the will to formulate it into eloquent symbols and vague asides. it's been a fucking week though, and deserves summation:

detour to colorado-
a sharp jab in a tender spot-
a illuminatingly beautiful 3 day visit,
the motherboard on my laptop dies,
freakishly accurate chakra reading,
playing housewife,
shoot cancellations and flakes GALORE,
transmission scare,
truck hell,
stereo hell,
computer hell,
money hell.
lover's paradise.

i haven't drank in a month. and although i sometimes want to, i recognize that it's only when i'm upset, and that is definitely when my mouth should stay dry. when my head stays dry, i don't really ponder it.

i have 4 hours until i have to leave for a 13 hour drive and i don't think i'm going to sleep.
my path does not know the meaning of leveling off.

1 comment:

  1. there is not such thing as level, only the perception of level as we see it.