A working title to a book I was writing before this experiment. Obviously many moments of this experiment can be weedled into it, but that’s probably part of the Marfa trip.
Oh yes, in January I finally get to more there and just write. No caring about food or America or changing things, but instead just being who I’ve always been despite the interferances of life.
A writer. It is my base in life.
Writing. The expression of words to write out my soul.
Some people have bases of love or family, and my base was fucked as a kid when mommy was like oh no, don’t love me, I fear rejection too and thus place it on my kids at times *whatevs hands*.
We took this in Big Bend (the reason we even went to Marfa) so it is appropriate.
Parents fuck up mates. Mostly mine did well with us, provided for us, and genuinely tried. I love them to immense depths of reality. I even made them this:
Yeah. Just try to be more adorable. Put those words together in my head all by myself too.Then inscribed them into paper with my bare hands.
Oh wait there’s another adorable picture of us near Marfa where we enjoyed some incredible mind melting drinks. I had my first on fire drink there.
So this post has too much parent in it to get into what I wanted to show you. I’ll make a new post instead.