Today was a difficult day for me. My attention has been all over the place, focusing on everything and nothing. I am going to try and cook dinner this evening, but have small hopes of accomplishing much.
I've been writing next to nothing for the last few days. I've started half a dozen poems but can't follow through to completion. I don't know if this inability to concentrate is connected to my continued dissociated state. If it is unrelated, I wish it would pass.
Inkwell manor continues to hold my interest. The initial fervor (read frenzy) for posting has died down. I hope that the quality of things I've seen thus far will be maintained.
I acquired a couple pounds of "sculpey" a soft clay that hardens only when baked. I am doing a little sculpture, trying to find a creative outlet. I lack a good place to do such things so my efforts are half-hearted.