Sixty Degrees and a Hot Cab

Finishing out a prescription bottle of pot and then not doing that anymore. It's still not for me, but I am better at it than I used to be. An attempt to sate that goddamn transcendence void that left with alcohol.

"Just work on the things you love!"

"Take a class!"

"Aw you don't need that!"

Sitting on my bed. Typing. No, I won't die without the feeling of transcendence, but it brings me small amounts of joy that I've yet to find elsewhere.

"Try meditation!"

"Get plenty of sleep!"

"No, really, try meditation!"

I do meditate, and since becoming medicated, I sleep much better. I drink large amounts of water and I get a good amount of fresh air.

I think about home a lot. Who I was there and what I had. How it had a short lifespan and if I was there now it would be over and I would have no hope.

I know that when I walk into a room you wish I hadn't.

I stay in this one.

Focus. Paint. Draw. Try to write, try to write music. Nothing really comes out and I think it is an after effect of the pot and an inability to focus rather than a side effect of the medication (even though that is what happened last time). Think about money. And think about how to sleep. Think about connection, and think about how to wake.

I really have no idea what tomorrow will be. I never know anymore. No sense of stability and no sense of safety. Constant state of anxiety. When I meditate I focus on the fear and try to expel it and maybe I have to some degree. I'd be in an awful state if I hadn't, maybe.

This tea tastes like hot cabernet.

An idea strikes me and I think it is a dangerous one so I type this sentence to let it out of my brain and I move on.

I try to move on.

Work in an hour.

At home it has snowed and people are shoveling and cold and slipping on ice and shivering and holding each other and eating dinner together and walking in it all, hand in hand. Watching a film. Hand in hand. Smiling. Hand in hand. Freezing. Hand in hand.

60 degrees here and I am sitting on my bed typing in the toxic yellow light of nicotine stained bulbs and I am thinking of so many of you.