I've been getting shit in the mail. Letters from my tattooed Leo in Utah I never expected to hear from again, photos from weddings, a personal growth/pop philosophy/self-help book from my dad's best friend Russel. The universe is telling me something. People care about me. People don't dissappear. I matter to people. Things come back around.
Decay leads to regeneration leads to decay leads to regeneration.
I need a new job, but I keep putting off really looking for one. May do elder home care. May model for artists. May bartend. Suggestions welcome.
Also, I'm the Out of the Blue art gallery's poet of the month.