Far from recent issues... my gripes are now relatively nonissue, but that does not mean that they are not irksome. Its amazing how hard mental health can be. Sure... Who empties the dishwasher, who takes out the trash, and who's buying food for the household shouldn't really annoy me at this point... and maybe those things are not really whats doing my mental in. I feel like I gave up sometimes. I retreated, and left behind a dream, or another life, or a different reality.

I remember best the crows and the piano.

The crow salute at sundown used to stun me.

The clouds of crows drifting.

Their talking.

The heart of their territory right before dawn coming awake with them.

The notes drifting over the river at sundown as the boats drifted past.

The heavy rail lines humming over the water.

But these were the best of the things.

The oddity of each day.

The surrealist nature of existence at times haunts my memories.

Clarity bringing memory into focus at times.

My situation is tenuous at best is what I'm forced to come to terms with.

I need to find housing.

I need to find a safety net.