It’s December 2023. In the back of my mind snippets are here to organize or ponder. They float around to process quietly. I Rough draft over this time in my life. It will be art. I know the process now. How my life filters itself into art. I roll with it using my writing as a file. From parts of my body art releases itself. Kickwheel. Clay. Writing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ There’s a fight brewing between us.It’s A cold fight and I cannot speak because I shouldn’t. I take herbs and stay hydrated. Keep busy. Keep focused, keep happy. Happy is a choice. I listen to Sarah mcglachlan and think about angels. Violet rabbits… totems to ground. Examples. It’s this old family. They hate. I always was confused, it’s such a strong word. Maybe I didn’t want it to be true. How I deal is my deal…so I choose to write. In times like these I think about if anyone really can life a conflict free boring life with nothing but love food shelter and coziness. It’s a fantasy I used
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