If you’ve been reading the blog for any length of time, you know that I like nothing more than to have a big fat pity party and invite all my friends.You know I like to wonder what life would have been like if I hadn’t been kicked out of film school, if I hadn’t fallen apart, if I had kept my eyes open when I kissed you. I try to understand why I didn’t make any sacrifices for my writing such as financial security, health insurance, a lifetime supply of remorse. Should we take the ferry or should we take the train? Did he just litter? Did you see that? I want to thank my parents, my sisters, the babysitter who got us stoned and taught us how to make Chex Mix. I want to be grateful for what I don’t have. I want to braid my counselor’s long dark hair again. If you went to my high school, you know a boy died there, you know the seniors paint the big rock out front, and that everyone is bored or maybe it’s just me. Is that a grey bear or a snowy owl? I saw my father in a tree. He wouldn’t look at me.
Can you or can you not go home?
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