inlikeflynn

Goddammit, I can't write when I get like this. I'm jealous of people who can. This is when I need it the most.

Y'know those times when something somebody says triggers a memory or a half-memory that stirs up a bunch of shit that you wouldn't want to deal with even if you could remember specifically what it was, and you just lay flat on your back watching the popcorn ceiling dance because every time you try to write about how you feel you ramble on endlessly in sentences that feature no conspicuous punctuation and never really get to the point and no matter what you do or think or say, you can't stem that feeling of anxious dread that you don't even really understand?

Yeah. Whoof.

I'm really and truly homesick for south florida for the first time since the short period right after I moved here. And listening to Peter, Paul, & Mary on the drive home from dinner with my father made me suddenly long for the evenings that I spent flopped on the couch in my bedclothes right after a warm bath watching one of their concerts on PBS. It's strange how I can go home to visit my family and leave feeling great, like an independent young adult, and then go out to dinner with my father while he's visiting me up here and see him off at the end of the evening feeling very suddenly like a grown-up, and very unsettled.


I need a hug, or several.