So deciding to have a sob-free day was probably a bad idea being that I got some new ink. Ha. On the other hand, pain can be centering. When a very talented and capable tattoo artist is running a needle into your skin, you can't think about much else.
It's been a painful week but not in entirely negative ways:
Some people I love are going through really tough times. We have no idea of the outcome and there's more ahead. It's a minute-by-minute battle not to freak out with worry. I've been going through my own, self-inflicted misery and it's minute-by-minute too, sometimes. But guess what, I've lived through it so far and I'm okay. Wow. Then there's the pain of getting a tattoo. The first few cuts hurt a lot. A LOT. Today, I lay there thinking "WTF was I thinking?" Then it becomes routine. It still hurts, but it's become less of a surprise. I concentrated on breathing. Un-clenching. Ash and I talked about how hard it is to keep life simple and not fuck things up. I thought about my other ink and the reasons I'd gotten it done. Then, it was over. The lack of pain feels enormous, like a big beautiful bubble. But I wouldn't have got there without the previous ninety minutes.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...