i can't stop sweating, the heat in these cities is melting my brain. Go to location A, go to location B, go to location C...half the time I have no idea that I have no idea, and I get hungry, but not for food, for stupid shit. The people I meet are amazing, but I'm still hungry, and I confuse everyone. Sometimes, no all the times lately, I just want to talk to strangers I've met about my therapy.
For me, these things of abandonment are few and far between, but noted because I blog the shit out of my life.
I am lonely. that is an anchor point A. sometimes I screw up, a lot of times I screw up. that is an anchor point B. I have a faith, and it cost me friends and aquantainces. that is anchor point C.
I do know that, once I am dead, my conscious will be gone forever. My digital fingerprint will dissolve, my voice will be forgotten. There are too many 'erotic' or 'nude' or 'whatever' photographers out there, our dust will blow away in a mild gust, then....gone.
Strangely though, there is a different voice, a tiny voice, put on trial daily by the angels on my shoulders. This voice wants to praise the women who taught me to love, who taught me about freedom.
I do know, that for the first time in three years, I am having lucid dreams again. Last night, in my dream, I pulled my phone from my pocket, and the screen was cracked. Then I went home, and thru all my old boxes and every cell phone I owned, had a cracked screen. The phones were ringing, but I couldn't answer them.
Last week on ebay I went on a $17 spending spree and bought a bunch of nudie and pornographic slides. Some of the slides were from the actual photographers, or collections from collectors, or from yard sale buys. These two particular slides, make me wonder why the girls agreed to have their photos taken. Was it for money? Was it for attention? Was it because they were in love?
a fleeting moment of love frozen in time? Or just a pinup photo?
an intimate tryst with your lover? or just a beaver shot?
