At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)” —
Sylvia Plath (via talkativolive)
one of my favorite poems by Ms. Plath
“First, it gets better. Then, it gets hard. Then, it gets different. Then, it gets real. “
Right now, I am in the hard phase.
Homeless in Boulder? Stay tuned.
At least I am single again…
you got it, baby
Starting to like AA.
And looking forward to meetings.