clean up...
I think i found a singular happy place this evening. Sitting in my basement, reading a book I recently was given, listening to Miles Davis and drinking a glass of wine. Everything that reminds me of failure has been packed into a form fitting case or taped into a box. Nothing except the simple feeling of wanting a cigarette put a notch in me. Maybe tomorrow it will be the Dave Brubeck record I've been denying for the past few months. Yes, I think that will do nicely.