here’s a picture of me now
Your bathroom had a hole in it, I forget why. Your kitchen was a mess. You told me I was writing to manage my anxiety & that it showed. I’m always glad to get free advice about my personality. I remember suddenly going blank–but very depressed–when your cat passed me on the stairs. I wanted to be home but I didn’t have one any more. I knew that most of my behaviour was as inappropriate for a man of my age as the parrot ear ring. To the extent, anyway, it could even be called behaviour. Was the bathroom ever fixed ? I often wonder about that. Right now I’m reading Daniel Alarcon, Lost City Radio, very good, & listening to a lot of early Rolling Stones. You’d like the one but I bet you hate the other.