inkblot

i cut my thumb on the cheese slicer the other day while making a sandwich. it seemed like no big deal at first, until it started kind of gushing. once the blood clotted, i've found the cut is in a very inconvenient spot and is having difficultly healing. it's perpetually open like the two sides can't come together. it's sore.

this evening at storytellers we just sat around chatting instead of writing. it was fun. they are all undoubtedly good people.

if my heart could have thrown up this morning it would have.

i'd really like to know that i've still got it.

what would you think if i told you that i received stubble in the mail today. that's right, someone mailed me his stubble.

there are still moments when i see my tattoo and find it so completely remarkable. it's still so new and novel that i'm amazed by it's existence. i want for you to discover that black star. to slide your thumb over it ever so slightly. my wrist would seem tiny in your hand.

when your chips are down,
when your highs are low.