the death of ivan of denisovitch

Aug 05, 2008 03:06

I've been a mule as of late. A torrent of work unlike an arabian horse can handle under the desert sun. The city get's hot in more ways than imaginable. Most notably down on Zion st. were in there is no peaceful state of things. I'd rather attend a call on Park st. anyday.
In other great headlines my great darling is off the chemo and back at it. My heart could overflow, but you'd never know it because you fuckers ask too many questions. I have too much to write about that this is quite redundant and i feel it negates it's true purpose sometimes.
Such busy weeks I have full of the wanted and wanton. Violent , drunk , bleeding, cellulitis, chest pains, drug pains, human pains. I rather enjoy my down time days in bed away from the world an all it's garbage. A practice of non thinking while things of the past wash away with the deceased I've encountered. My eyes close to await the next day. I enjoy it and it's truth. All else is rather mundane. I often escape to the sea where there's no wrong or right. I belong there, in the back of the ambulance and between the sheets. All happy , all gone.

Bones
Previous post
Up
[]