We'd Get Out If We Knew Just How (With the Radio On)

untitled, by bruno miguel

We all have something we were supposed to be out there doing. I get that. and yet, there it is. my paintbrushes stiff, my canvases all moldy in a basement somewhere, and I'm sitting in my perfectly clean apartment wearing whitening strips and balancing my checkbook.

like an watch alarm or a piece of string. thank you athena for reminding me with your writing where it is i was suppose to be.

http://neverwalkedinhighheels.com/2009/07/her-portrait-of-me/