I'm sitting on a mattress, arms angled up typing this. The roosters keep on yelling, the doves keep on on cooing, the grackles are making their machine like noises. It's nice out right now, but I know it's going to heat up. It's going to be humid, and I'll be in a horrible mood. I'm in Austin, Texas, and I don't really know what I'm doing here. There are no jobs. I'm running out of money. And I need my own life. I got some unsettling "news" today that I had tried to pry out for years, but was never admitted till now. Now it's admitted, and I'm here, and I don't feel "great" about what I was just told. "I'm only telling you this, because it's the truth and lying doesn't make anything better." Which makes no sense now. It should have been told before, when I was trying to figure and sort everything out. Now my feelings our shifted, and I don't know if I want to be here.
I never really use blogspot.