this story is different- half a year later or so, back to a different beat.
ive forgotten how to blog.

ive been writing letters every day which is different to any type of writing i know and i don't think i quite do it right because i just talk to him like i would and i tick tick tick and stutter and run off on bizarre tangents and interrupt myself and sometimes it is pretty and sad like i sometimes i am and sometimes its the day, always it is me. i never have to know how he felt when he got a letter from me. but i know they are read.

ill try again maybe with this blog-business
it feels strange like
i hope im not straining for something to say, but it feels familiar too. like an old friend.