I am sitting here in a lonely home that is not my own. The echo of memory is moving through this place. But there is a power that is beyond that. Someone that is in touch with it can feel it. But I digress. A lot. I just really think that most people can not even feel it. Well, at this point I just feel alone. regardless my mind goes to the dreams of what is to come, and what is to be dreamed.
Recently I received money for my creative arts. I have received renumeration in this manner previously, but this feels different. More as though never before have I felt more in the place that I should be. She makes me so happy, my job makes me happy, and my creative pursuits have produced profit.
In other news I am watching an interview with Neil Gaiman which includes a presentation of some things he wrote about alcohol's effect on writing creativily while I sip on Gin and try and write this blog entry. Interesting experience.
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