On mornings like this I cannot do my yoga. I cannot breathe. By the time the ephedra twig kicks in it will be too late. I am reading Sula again. I am reading it with Asia. It is part of her daily critical & emotional thinking assignment: Thinking with the Heart. We have finished The Artist's Way and are now working with Creative Visualization. I read Sula years ago. It was a Toni Morrison block. I read them all in one sitting. My favorite kitty in the whole world is Tinker. He showed up this morning after a three-day hiatus. I have changed the cat's diet. More whole grains, veggies, and cheese. Replaced the can stuff with tuna. Cat food in cans in downright EVIL! Neal got my old computer up and running for my birthday and I've started writing a new book. I am compiling my father's writings in a book called, Patrick's Peeves, Poetry, & Pestilence. It will absolutely make you piss your pants!
           STILL CAN'T BREATHE! I have just about had it. I am forcing every word. Every fucking syllable. I am just like my mother. Hard and difficult. I try being nice but it just doesn't work. I was born this way. I am my mother. I see her in my arms. I see her in my skin. I smell her in my bones. My hands are hers. Warm and swollen. I carry myself hard and ugly just like she did. Fifty-two weeks of this is going to cause a war. This is not compensation. This is not true. I want to take a shotgun to the head of every motherfucker that has ever interrupted my home. My Fridays should not be spent like this. Giggling with girls in Hillcrest. I am so above it. Water the flowers for beauty's sake. No one likes death anymore. No one likes dead. Truth is dead. We all killed it. God killed it. God killed truth to death. It's not that hard to put a stake through truth and bury it in the ground like god. Little truth graves all over the place sealed up with rocks, dirt, and god. Burnt truths scattered across the bloody waters seasoning what the vultures left. What's left after the wrath of Camille? The wrath of god? God willing I will find this motherfucker called god and I will put a shotgun to his head!

7 Steps to Freedom
                       Enlightenment
                Nowhere

One. Stop drinking
Two. Turn off the tele
Three. Read
Four. Write
Five. Breathe
Six. Practice yoga*
Seven. Meditate*

*Numbers six and seven can only be accomplished if number five is successful.

(Perhaps that's the problem).