Rust grows quick on the fingers. Hasn’t been all that long… or has it been an eternity? I can scarcely recall the difference.
Tag: thoughts
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 4.7.19
Paradigm shift. That’s the phrase floating about this old skull, as of late. Been putting my things into boxes. I’ll be moving at the end of the month. First time in six years. Nowhere to go, yet. No place of my own, at least. First time that’s happened in ten years.
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 3.17.19
My feet are blistered. As are my hands. A familiar ache, better handled by the younger body inhabited upon the ritualistic initiation. Though, to be fair to my current older self- the kid fell asleep in the bar the first St. Pat’s in a kilt.
The Veracious Facade 