"We survived another Thanksgiving"

     

      The sun is breaking like my easy yolk is about to. My teeth are getting psychologically worse but they still do the trick. Grandma is a better egg cook than she gives herself credit for.
      This house was yesterday packed with people of all ages and sizes, and peppered with three little black dogs. I had a beer and a glass of cider with my dinner, no water. I finished the cider and put myself to napping as I began to feel ill, claustrophobic, anxious and lonely. I didn't smoke pot yesterday and I wish I had had some. The first day without for awhile and I'm feeling good about it. It's a survival technique, a security mechanism, when all else familiar is danger. A truly positive attitude shouldn't need it, shouldn't need anything beside what it has. And the familial reminds me of this. I'm such a baby, a foolish one that doesn't take advice.
     I hate the TV when it absorbs your mind, but its different when I too succumb. Gpa's anniversary/birthday present from Gma was a new flatscreen TV, his new portal that we all marveled over. We were an American family, still but contextually different, for when we are additionally connected by our containing room. This country is separated millions times over each day and I am fortunate, grateful, lucky that it's so simple to reunite with my ever-evolving kin. I'm not the only one growing up, the parallels from childhood so more obvious. And this country is the extent of personal form that I allow myself, the gov't always breathing down my skinny neck.
     The framed embroidery by my visiting bedroom door states, "Youth is a gift of nature, old age is a work of art." Gives me something to look forward to. I can't just eat whatever I want to anymore, if I ever had the choice in the first place. Longevity is my priority, for I've long forgotten what I want to be when I grow up. I just gotta keep my ball rolling. I'm dreaming of a moss creature, just like the ones that never boil.
     And if I can get away while the cat's not looking and lock the rats in the house where they belong, I get worms. Glorious glorious worms. Dark matter is burned daylight. I am lord gaga, I am the night.
     love, matthew