a neutral mist

i dont write much worth reading any more to be honest. like richard papen in The Secret History, his unhappiness is relative to that place, fuelled by creativity, and his mental state.

it seems with everything i write now i address it to someone or something, rather then just theb huge vague mass of personalities that was once myself.

since coming here all that seems to have merged into one more or less solid ‘self’.

my housemate filmed last wednesday night when we had some people over, it was good, and my ‘self percieved self’ was what i saw on the video, for once. i looked how i think i look, which i’v never seen in videos or photos before.

i feel fuzzy and free, but heavy, and still like that twig.

like the mist that descended on friday around 3am when i was walking home.

except that mist bode for beautiful fresh weather, and im not sure what my mist bodes for.

well. i have an idea. but im not sure i’ll get to that same stage again, for now.

like the other day i felt miserable as hell, but by the time i got into the house, ampty house, and got upstairs the darkness had gone, faded somewhere further, somewhere more neutral inside me.

like the neutreal portrait. i feel more neutral.

im alone, but seeing some faces i recognise, or freindly facesidotn recognise but that sit staring and smiling back anyway.

x