exile

I basically moved into BoyKid's room at the Padre's, making nightly VISITS to feed, play, commiserate with, and see my pets like seeing a zoo. Not being in my own home.

I am 12 years old again... asking for rides because I can not drive on my own.

I go home, my home, more like a pit stop "hi just dropping in to feed my sugar gliders and cry" and I hold my animals and I bawl. I spend all my time either in a lot of pain, or slightly less pain but doped.

Neither is worth living, to be perfectly honest.

But that is not a confession of a plan, just so you know.

It is not.

I spend a lot of time watching my deer. Naming them, renaming them. Worrying about them in the snow and the slick roads and coming times of less food. There are 8 of them. 2 of the babies have gimpy legs.

I am tired.