Up early with the asthma and the cats. This has been steady for a couple weeks now, that I can only sleep in 3-4 hour stretches at a time. Oh well. The job search goes the same. I send the resumes out and everyone is quiet. Roanoke is dry and shriveled up to graphic designers. Friends ask me how I’m doing. I ask myself the same. I think I’m doing alright. There have been some serious gut wrenching moments, but those can’t be fended back, really. I’ve made it through, sometimes on the help of others. Other times, my own.
Convictions and old ideas reemerge as new. They are new. A common sense tidbit comes into focus, and this time has handles and can be steered. 2002-03, there were no handles.
Rudra continues to heal, sits on my monitor in front of me, his tail hanging down over the screen. Much of the blood from the car accident is still clogged up in his nostrils; his breathing is still striving. Kalika hisses at him less day by day.
Reading mostly Anarchist websites these days, knowing for sure that this voting shit is, and always has been, superfluous. Kerry winning the election would not have significantly changed anything, a state which suffers from a hierarchal, overbearing structure. I refuse to participate in it. We need to take power and responsibility for ourselves, as adults and amoebas. More importantly, we need to reconnect with each other, break the outsider mentality—and unite as families. Shift around musical chairs on that level.
Music here in my room: Since By Man, R.L. Burnside, Rumplestitchkin, Al Green, Tom Waits, Instruction, Pitch Black, Call Me Lighting, U-God, Saul Williams, Mos Def.
The sun is coming up. The winds slosh around.
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