She said 'dont fight'

Unexpected reticence at writing again - long day, cool, some great huffy storm is circling around refusing to touch down and it's chased off all the heat - little explosions of rain that means it followed by a brisk and untroubling drizzle, bright in the sky, very nice. Could stand a month of this weather - all the windows wide, t-shirts and pants.

Typed in brief to Memphis last night. Told her absolutely nothing about it all. First steps and all that. Am very frustrated watching myself shrink away from this. Reminded over and over about my mother and her constant championing of the 'White Lie' to me - her desperate hope that I can shed this terrible desire to say everything about everything if I opt to open my mouth at all. So much easier to say not a thing than give it in pieces whittled at for more accommodating edges.

Tried unsuccessfully to dig a copy of Adobe Photoshop out of the internet - I miss having it around, have some definitive want in me for a camera and a device with which to fiddle. Wonder if I know anyone who could take some pictures for me - live action Hank Single mock-ups. Must borrow sword from someone.

Insufferable Voyeur.

Have only the briefest moments before leaving for work. Have been too long away from the habit of simply writing each and every day. Much of it is that the writing that made me, the wheel on which the words were turned, was in small hour letters to those who have, since, grown to love others. Natural, I think, but still sad.

There is nothing to replace those letters - lies a void amidships, where a strong measure of confidence in that nightly discourse once rested. Enter a particular part of my life - an epoch where I suddenly see all the places I am not comfortable with what I have grown to be and seek, if slowly, to right them. Right as a ship, not as a wrong. And in that shifting have no place to tell it.

Is something in being regarded, for sure, that is easily missed once you have it. Find my own self so totally absorbed by watching the written-about lives of others - was once that, will be it. Must go to work.