hush little alien

When I left, I took 2 wine glasses. 4 milk glasses. So much of a dent already, on our insides, it seemed like a good idea to take what was nearest to the door, literally the room NEXT TO THE DOOR, and only what else I’d absolutely need to seem recognizable to the kids. Chosen all in under 2 hours. I suppose too, that it softened the 'for-keeps' factor for me to take less.

But, every single wine glass (guess no showing off the wine w the tofu recipes like "friends" as planned, eh? hahahaha) Every single toy.

Every picture except those of me, the one of him looking down that was next to the one of me at three, curly like B. As I type this, I'm looking at the one I picked to take with me, of him smoking in a doorway in Germany. This is for sure one of those times that bloat wouldn’t help, since no eloquence could describe the nothing that could possibly prepare you.

(. . . . . . . . . . . .) reel but stand, stay standing, try ( . . . . . wait, breathe . . . . ) . . . lock right jaw. shut . . . tight. (remember the fuckthis, shitbreathe . . .)

Guess I’ll be saving up for some trips to IKEA and Toys r’ Us.

mike doughty – looking at the world from the bottom of a well (i.e. "divorce la la la")

I think I might have to sign off for awhile until I can find a song that goes "don't touch me, doo wap doo wap"