i'm not a different person i'm just continuously expanding and shifting to fit my spaces and i like the one i'm filling right now, i like the way my life tastes now as i adjust and observe and create my surroundings it seems more real than anything lately
i like to dig my way into a place i like to immerse myself and then only then does it complete me then only then does it come alive
and then letter or phone calls arrive voices words scribbled thoughts from beyond the realm of my understanding my reality my world they remind me & confuse me; they throw some doubt into the progression of my days
it's strange feeling yr living two lives; it's odd when every situation is temporary and i love moving on i hate being static but this, this is too much i have no choice, every time i settle every time i think i've maybe started to find myself i'm uprooted and slammed back into an alternate fiction and which one is me which one is me i have to start over again
new ink:
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