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life is short. who could tell me otherwise?

i am not ready to go

not ready to give up the physical plane and also not ready to give up whatever optimism or innocence or faith i have left, i will not pack a go bag but i will buy a gun.

things attached to this earth i want more of: kissing, gay sex, long nights with friends, laughing, dancing in libby's living room, petting every cat and dog, feeding people i love, hugging my people, my dog, the wind on my face, the sounds of water on the shore, sunshine, starlight, the smells of amber and vanilla and pine and dirt and the sidewalk after it rains

i can only be glad everything has happened exactly the way that it did

i should not have had to live thru any of this-- nor most of us most of the traumas we have survived-- and turned around and tried to help others

like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, i have tried in my way to be free

tick

tick

tick

tick

ding

one week anniversary

my body is a clock