“Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.”

I’m a recovering alcoholic. I have 9 years and 11 months sober.

“About” pages make me want to draw flow charts of how and when and if we might actually meet. Would it matter if you knew real things about me? Would you believe me if I told you? Would that change anything you read here? In the end, do you think it would change you?

I suffer from often debilitating bouts of chronic pain; referred to as Fibromyalgia.

Pain is something to be endured: you embrace it, then break it.

I’m an adult student trying to find my way back into a young world.

I have rats. I ride a motorcycle. I weight-lift. I mountain bike. I rock climb. I ♥ rock climbing. I paint. I draw. I hike. I run. I’m a photography enthusiast. I read. I collect. I listen.

“I’m not an artist. I am a reaction to life. I know that I’m not as strong as life, perhaps that’s why I drag it kicking and screaming down the road. It’s my life but it’s not. I can control it to a certain extent. The parts I can’t control rip me up and keep me moving. I want  to get old on the road, disappear without a trace. Take years to learn and unlearn, to learn to forget. Impossible for me now, a challenge for me later on. You can go as far as you want on this motherfucker.” – Henry Rollins ‘Black Coffee Blues’

Every draft of my life I’ve rewritten on the same piece of paper: the same person, in the same place, with the same people, in the same state. It’s hard to see the ideas underneath when the surface becomes so illegible. So if what we live is our chance to erase, re-do, and redefine, this is yet another draft: one without several beneath it, but only an idea. An experience.

Widowmaker © rattusphere.com