I closed the tabs on my computer with the outfits I wanted to buy and launched a new browser. My mouse swirled as it zipped its way through the interwebs to a writing workshop I had been admiring.

Today I let my goal live. I wrote it down sloppily on a notecard and granted it life.

It’s been about 17 years since his departure. I don’t remember it clearly and this surprises me because I remember most things. It bothers me that I don’t remember. The last day I saw him continues to be a fuzzy hole in my memory.

I wouldn't say I’m back in a slump but I do feel it lightly scratching at my door, letting me know it's there and that it's ready to reenter upon my invitation.

I sometimes feel detached from my body like I am not living inside of it. I am housed in the smallest and darkest corner of my mind where my soul allows itself to vibrate rapidly.

I love storms and the earthy smell that accompanies them. Birds churn in the air and big clouds full of color roll in. I feel excited about what hides in their fluffy interior. Though looming they are mysterious and beautiful.

I want to make my life where I have love.

For always, I have been in search of this place. It is a place where I will go and be planted. Where I will send down my roots wide and deep and grow a life uniquely my own.

If will was love I would have committed over and over again.

Today I am tired. Tired of listening to people speak and tired of bureaucratic niceties.

My laugh sounded a little too loud. It was a piercing melody that whistled from the back of my sinuses and the top of my throat. This laugh sends my tongue to an unfamiliar place, it nestles itself in the lowest part of my mouth to make room for the inauthenticity to escape.

For the longest time, I did not know how to quit. Quitting was a stranger that I was not allowed to be with.

For the past few days, I head to my desk as soon as I wake up. I clear it of all things related to work, computer, keyboard, random sticky notes from the day before and replace them with my watercolors.

When I was 16-years-old I had my aura read by a mystic in the upstairs bedroom of my grandmother's house.