There are points in life when one needs to step back and take stock. Look at the relationships in ones life and figure out where to proceed from here.

My hard limit is when I can no longer be emotionally honest, because if nothing else I have managed that on here. I realized a little while ago that I no longer could be on here, at least for now. There are too many balls in the air emotionally and a lot going on behind the scenes that I can’t discuss on here without hurting people I care about deeply and airing private matters that should not be aired.

So. I am getting offline for a little while. I will focus on work, on Poe, and on reminding myself that I am an artist. Even if I don’t have clay supplies I can draw and sketch, and I plan to.

The 27th is the second anniversary of my Aunt’s death. I don’t talk about her much anymore.. Because it still hurts. It still doesn’t feel real, her being off of this earth. She was my partner and crime and my security blanket who always set me straight when I needed it. She would never let me fall to rock bottom, but would give me a swift kick in the ass from time to time.

My biggest fear is that I’ve disappointed her. I can hear her at times, like she would after my mom and I would fight. “Bud, what are ya doing?” She always called me Bud. I don’t remember her calling me by my name once.

On the anniversary I plan on taking care of me in the best way possible. I will wake up, call my mother and cry with her before she goes to work. Then I’m taking the day off work, hopping in the car, and driving to Muir Woods to sketch and write. I’ve never gone.. I’ve wanted to.

My aunt went once, when I was little. She loved to travel and came to California often. She was the only one who didn’t discourage me when I told her I wanted to move to San Francisco. Instead she told me to do it, that I would fit in better there and find my place.

When she died, weeks before I was supposed to move, I got an insurance check in the mail. My aunt had a private policy set up when she got diagnosed with cancer. I was the sole beneficiary. The money was enough to get me to San Francisco and to live off of for a couple of months.. There was no way I could have done it otherwise. Even after she passed, she took care of me.

I need to find my place, on my own path. In my own way. A part of me is perhaps hoping that maybe if I go there I’ll feel closer to my aunt. Maybe she can help me again, somehow, like she always has.

I have my journal and have no plans to stop writing. If anything I need it, to get my own mind straight.

For now it’s time to get dressed, glomp my cat, and get what I need done for work done so I can make money tonight.

I will be fine. I’m a tough cookie. If anyone should need me.. Well, most people who care know how to reach me.

Sometimes it’s good to unplug.


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