Isn't it?
for the record, i'm going to try to keep this updated with only photos of my own taking from now on in an effort to keep me taking them. and please hold me to that, if in fact anyone actually reads this
I've been essentially avoiding all of my clients today. Mondays are generally pretty laid-back. I usually work from home, but the office is closed so I can either ignore the whole mess and not need to worry about getting called out by the man, or go to the office and sit there in peaceful quiet.
Today is wet and stormy, so fuck doing anything. I've got these vague inclinations to do something productive like clean, but I'm also currently updating my livejournal with pounds of bullshit so obviously that's not moving too far.
had an acid trip in my dream last night. Got on a plane to Portland and watched it fly through neon alleyways and tunnels, all seen through the translucent fuselage. forced myself awake to find my parents had flown to New York and pulled me from the plane before it could take off. To surprise me I guess? Not sure. I forced myself awake again, and this time for real.
It's gotten to that point now where people ask me, "Do you miss Portland?" and I'll say, "no, not really." And they'll ask, "do you think you'll ever move back?" and I say, "maybe," and then think of all the places that could be even farther from where I started and dream about those instead.
And a dear friend recently joined me here. And she and her husband, bound by predetermined departure, may never spend as many moments as necessary to acclimate. She complains about all the piles of trash, bagged up in frightening piles late at night, unaware that as horrid a sight as it is, it's still real and an unavoidable truth of our world that should be paraded in our face and not judged as some unnecessary nuisance.
I just can't imagine what life would feel like if you could never move on.