Reflections on emptiness 

Yesterday I floundered within my head of what good behavior in this moment looks like for me. I can't seem to let go of certain eccentricities. I crave the day I'm not begging for an eye to see me, a tongue to taste my name in the right marination.  

I wondered within four or five places of ambiguous delights only to be left with a dry, metallic taste on the roof of my mouth. The Stone House calls me back and today I simply refuse. I simply refuse.