i'll let you know when i get there

This city is full of crying women.

ok ok ok how do i do this? something about wandering and crying "Margaret" on a green hill. something about making good art or getting back to myself (self?  where have i been, then?) finding a new here when home is not home--- belong to the city to myself to every single second- catch up to my sense i won't be long feel feel feel haunted the dull ache looms (i've been here before) i've never been here before i don't want firsts that come with lasts i want a way i want a stay i want a knowing and a clear want returned (i know what zeppelin song your feet are moving to i know a lot of things but i don't know what to do when every single day isn't reason enough to stay and i can't wait for garden walks with feet afraid of planting) the -how- remains was how to stay now how to go and still remain somewhere in the present tense

photography is by far the best form of cure-all i could ever conjure.   it helps to detach and it helps to engage.  it is distance and intimacy.  everything.

there are situations or moments or discoveries or realizations that change everything... they forever alter the way you see your past. there is a before that and and after that and the before seems like some other life lived by some other person in a much safer place.

"You see, we can never know with any kind of certainty how an atom will behave naturally.  Because the very instant that we look at an atom, we alter it.  The very act of looking is never a passive thing.  It has an effect.  In fact, physicists tell us that reality, at its deepest level, is the response of the observer."  -Being Erica   

a poem found and felt something about a sob releasing a sob on some ordinary day i wrote down the title to return to it later but today i looked and it wasn't there the source is all wrong and i don't remember anything \ except a vague feeling of it and that something like this can be lost is so sad to me today