The Pledge

I've lost my voice. Metaphorically speaking.

"Everything Right is Wrong Again" = at this point, officially estranged.

We had a good run. Hit the highs, sank to the lows.

Then I went and got a job in Jersey with no computer at my desk and no patience to write when I got home. You slaved over a hot stove. I ate out.

It's not over. I think we need to work on it. Maybe see a counselor. Talk more, definitely.

What's on my mind, you ask? I'm trying to move. I'm stuck in mediocrity. I haven't done much besides work and sleep lately. I need more. And blog, you will be my outlet. You will be my last bastion of hope.

Oh screw that shit. No need to make this redeclaration of our independence here in relative obscurity. I'm just going to work on writing more. On whatever. Whenever. Like Shakira. But without the hips. And I'm a guy.

We must protect this house.