A dormitory and some tarot cards. Anxiety is what I feel. It is dark, not night, but hazy and dull and dim. Maya is near/here. A large box filled with alcoholic bottles. Empty maybe. Trouble. In the end I am not fearful. I'm going on some sort of journey. Someone asks me if/to write goodbyes. A bicycle is lying down and I write my goodbyes. I think I write down names around the bicycle in chalk. I think Rick S is here, talking to me. I write to my mom; I love you more than the moon and the stars.
Updated 10-13-2012 at 03:24 AM by 40320