Basically it's been a day-by-day kind of month. I've had lots of bad dreams and sad dreams where I'm stuck in an industrial warehouse in India and I can't get out or our ducks were separated and crying out for each other with their little "meep!"s or Dave is standing in fields with long grass and he's there and he's not. My ears are infected and itchy and I wake up hating the way my stomach curves outwards not inwards. I still cry at mostly nothing and sometimes if I can't look forward to anything I don't see any reason to try.
I have a lover who I collided with in a mess of sadness and defiance and I don't mind colliding with him over and over, fast asleep in the early hours of the morning, turning to his arms.
And when I'm on stage with flowers in my hair that my Mum wired and glued with her own hands, singing words that I wrote about the awful and the precious things about living and loving, looking out into a sea of people I love and keep breathing for - I can't help but smile and believe that I'll never stop. At least I know what I was put on the earth to do.
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