New mug, biatch.
For something so small, I shouldn’t be so fond of it.
And yet I am.
There’s a simple joy, certainly, in working with my hands.
Cutting, drawing, sculpting, stitching, slicing, taping, gluing .
Sometimes I think they’re the best of me, and the most worthy of recognition. I realize, of course, that they’re nothing more than sinew and bone.
…that doesn’t change the fact that, deeply inebriated and looking up at the ceiling… they twitch and writhe with a life of their own, ever eager to be making something,
To craft a legacy worthy of my name.
Today was “National Donut Day”, and I didn’t even know. Someone offerred me one: a long John with pink, strawberry icing.
I wolfed it down with an enthusiasm bordering on piggish.
I am what I am.
…I think Popeye said that.