House hunting.

Well hello again. I'd nearly forgotten there was a sane excuse for talking to myself.

I'm looking for a house. I think so anyway. Sitting here, by a candle, looking for somewhere to start again. All signs point to going home.

But I don't want to.

I don't think.

Also, I'm feeling a little leaky-eyed. Fuck.

This is a whole lot of alone.

I've got women on my mind, too.

One I lost and and one I don't recognize.

I assume this is staged or something. Someone emailed it to me on an account I thought was defunct.

Brain salad, right?