i begged off the family thanksgiving in favor of a quiet time with r. and p. it felt good to make the decision and to find my brother understanding. i want to float by xmas too and just light a candle for the solstice. to celebrate the dark season with calm and quiet. and my birthday, to fold it into the solstice like a hibernating animal. i can't hibernate like the wise animals but i can use my head and heart to make my waking hibernation. ingathering. 
now there are competing versions of the impeachment in the bedroom and the kitchen crossing the study. i don't know how this informs or deforms my post. like last night i heard bass voices in the apartment below and groaned thinking oh no please is it starting again? and i turned the kitchen faucet on and put in black earplugs and in a little while it was quiet. i've always been a light sleeper and porous. i've always been exquisitely vulnerable to influence. when i took the plugs out the sound stopped and i felt another relief. i burned some white sage in lieu of washing my bed clothes and to clear my head room. 
i'm going back in some ways to go on. axiomatic dovetailed with my inner life in a way, yet also i think of story. what about personal story. how do you put down a burden that's inside you? the feeling it could take a lifetime of talk therapy and it would still be there inside like a passenger. the story might evolve in present time and find expression coinciding with a loved one's story in the present shared, right? 
pmf always said you make work for yourself. now he doesn't say it to me but i heard myself say it yesterday. is this the work now, if this is then it wasn't quite up to his criterion as i recall. i think it's the same, it's the same process, i can't imagine him reading it now, though i'm looking at his paintings daily. too many words right when a picture might do.