Oh God, I know I know I know, Thal. That one does me in every time and sometimes I won't quit till I trance out and ruin a solid four days on a sorrow bender. When the deep breaths feel like a cigarette's drag, a little sting if you breathe it too slowly, but you need it. I know I know. And the race we're all supposed to be in, and missing the starting gun, that whole thing, too. Though, when and if I'm lucky enough, when lust spits down on me I squirm and revel in it. I'd swim in that shit, I swear and stand on the water yelling fuck you god at the top of my lungs, waiting for a lightning strike or some kind of acknowledgement, anything at all. Look around in silence, a tear falls, a large one and then I drop down into an all out sob. The kind where your voice goes hoarse and the hard panicky inhales sound like screeching brakes. Full on pathetic.
Jeez, I'm sorry. Fuck, that shit's been repressed for awhile. I imagine it's coming out today for real sometime. Find me when it does. Find me when it does.
Give Jonah a kiss for me on her tummy. Make sure she gets plenty of good music. Helps newly arrived souls to align. I'll be back to meet her at some point.
I've been threatened to be taken to France. Paris, Provence and surrounding areas, and down to Nice. I'd find Le Select and drink absinthe for a couple days, probably spend the whole trip there and wait for the rest of them to come back. I wonder how Hemingway killed himself. I should know that, we're distant cousins actually.