Fucken Fuckity

In the month of October both my bff Gran and our middle cat Pants passed away. 

The broken little pieces of my heart are starting to accept it. But Oh, those searingly painful reminders; how deeply they penetrate, in stabs and slices. 

Grieving is not what I want to be good at, but at almost forty, it seems inevitable. 

Love your loved ones. High-five your liked ones. Smile gently at strangers.

We are made to love.

Dear Brain

While you delight me most often with your immense imaginings, I must ask that you cease having imaginary conversations with the following:

- exes

- the dead

- yourself

Please remedy the situation posthaste. 

Yours,

Consciousness 

Hibernation

Just let me sleep, at least til the next crushing blow.