2003-07-27 & 4:39 a.m. : home lives in your skin, you will never escape
for far over a year now, i haven't felt myself.
for far over a year now, i haven't felt myself.
within hours of being here, somehow my brother has snapped everything into place?
how does that work, the memory of smells and fingetips, the stains left by lips on cigarettes and the edges of whiskey glasses.
it's like everything i am has snapped back from somewhere in the ether and now it's all back inside my skin.
what does that mean? how much of my personality is locked up in the people that i love?
why does the comfort of history and love smash everything out of view?
we're having brunch tomorrow, i'm hoping to sit outside so i have to squint through sunshine to see his face.
