Friday, June 26 2015
Everything is going right, ostensibly. I haven't written anything, no inspiration—and no special information has been absorbed really.
Books are there. Friends show up on occasion, but it's mostly Stacey and Ivan. They bring the medicine.
But I feel very different than I am used to feeling.
It's not emptiness but something else. An outline of a shadow following me. A forgotten deadline.
Oh, I got mental health sessions and a job at another sandwich place. So now I can go back to school in Spring...
And I'm writing another story with a friend.
And as always,