Quasi Emotional Hollow of Heaven….

Isn't that what we all want? Some piece, a slice of something that we can chew on, savor and reflect on in our darker moments? something that carries us through to a better end? Something to suck on when the whole world is dark and wet and cold. Something more akin to comfort over the torture. I don't have that...yet. I was telling Don this morning that part of the reason we hate it here so much is there is nothing happening in our lives. This is a precarious situation brought on by poverty and just a general whatthefuckedness that is what Denver has become for me. I think, truly, that if you live in a high functioning city that trading it in for a semi-functioning one such as this kind of places you in a place of shock that is almost impossible to recover from--it's a state of mind that is hard to shake, and there is some delicious irony in realizing I hate people for their inflexibility but my own brain is not realizing that maybe I just haven't gone out enough, surrounded myself with enough people, done fucking anything to change the scope of what I see and ...