fitting like a nice tailored sweater

today i was contacted to be made aware my mother died.

she left when i was a wee lad and chose to drink her way to the grave

gnarly thing is, she made it like 65 years or something like that,

i guess i come from hectic genes which crave abuse

anyway, i knew she died....i already had a premonition

call it what you want but in the depths of a psilocybin trip

i knew she was dead, i dont remember if she came to me

or what

but the first thing upon re-entering reality, i said, "mom my is dead"

more skills to add to the what the fuck list..



so here i am. this silly blog has been a vomiting grounds for me

essentially from her absence....

and truly, i dont know if i care.

she made her choice, it just had consequences for more than her.

thanks lynn, you were a tornado of a person, leaving no stone unturned,

no heart left with a scent of malice,

im sure you never wanted any of this

but thanks for the gift of life, and your thorough lesson on staying put.