Effort Number 492

sometimes im scared i don't know how to love without hurting someone, with causing them more pain than another would, or than none. Perhaps they agree and don't care, or perhaps they don't agree. either way it has nothing to do with me, although it has everything to do with what i do, and say, and am. how delicate. 

writing writing writing. make it a habit they say. make it part of your day. hello. goodbye. the creation of data. of words. i think im supposed to talk about how i feel and how i felt.

+

woke up, headache. dehydrated from an overly hot room and sudden bright light as i removed my sleep mask. irritated that first words shared were complaints about a gift. two bad moods - but we split the world and dug 125 pounds of clams and lost the worst of the edge in the rocks. 

cooking all afternoon seems appropriate on the second of two days off together - cinnamon rolls don't really NEED to be a part of the day, but I'm wretched at self control, especially when i try to accomplish it. kitchari while on the phone with my mother was more appropriate i suppose. It's a high fiber, vegetable heavy dish. Protein, whole grain, nutrient rich. 

fin.