home was a place above the clouds. those days i could’n stare anywhere. i ran on dead bodies.
under the ground.
i realize all i ever do on this thing is post pictures i take or pictures i draw.
i used to keep a journal. somewhere out there in the internet jungle. day to day thoughts and actions turned too day to day. or maybe it was just my inability to finish things that ended it. i probably just found something better to do.
maybe i will pick it up again.
home is never. home is again.
it’s been a while, i’ve been busy for a while. tonight i am painting houses on the walls.