You Hear the Monsters, So You Search for a Beach Vacation...

I have soot all along my hands as I type this. I have no idea where it came from. I cooked. I cleaned. I drank. Now I'm writing. But I don't think it came from any of those. My right hand looks like it held a firework when it went off. I smoke, but I haven't. Sometimes I wonder if I don't go on amazing adventures and just not remember it. That would be par for the course, for life to only leave me with boring tidbits.

I spent most of the day listening to hostile winds and herding Chihuahuas and a Black Lab in and out of the cold. I admit, I drank Wine. I admit, I drank Tequila. I didn't trust the sounds of approaching cars, today. My paranoia is pretty healthy, I water it daily, it seems. Things that happen these days, I don't trust my dreams. There's a certain sort of synchronicity that I think the universe speaks through. It's just a simple repetition of a constant theme. Things that happen and I don't trust the news.

Winter started in KY with a cold snap that's still echoing. That was a handful of days ago, now, my mouth, throat and lips are all parched lands and a little bit of water goes a long way. Debating a hot bath while listening to some jazz and another glass of wine. Just one more is perfectly natural no matter how many you've had.

Writing and doing productive things...all that nonsense seems worlds away now. Falling down where you lose all that you are. I think I need that. I need a vacation. Thinking of going to Jupiter. No, dumbass... Jupiter, Florida. There's a Condo down there. I don't own it, but so far as I know...no one would arrest me if I crashed there for a week or two. Gonna settle with that hot bath, some beach sound effects and a cup of coffee instead of wine. That'll be my Beach Vacation, I guess. I'm good at settling and the monsters stay outside.

-SIN