Done. Trigger warnings.

The following may contain disturbing language and discussions of suicide. Reader discretion is advised.

I’m. Fucking. Done. Can’t disappear quite yet but that is the moral of the story. I’ve. Had. Enough. Enough what? Enough of this externally imposed life bullshit.

I. Am. Grateful. Yep. I have gratitude. And I’m still fucking sick and tired of slogging through whateverthefuck this is. The good part is my view.

The views around me are spectacular. Doesn’t matter what the weather is doing. Even dense can’t see through it fog is beautiful here.

Just had a flashback to fog in the 413 area code. The smell of cow shit is all I remember.

The rain passed. The fog lifted. The islands are showing themselves off against the sparkle of late-winter light scattering off of the pacific. Maybe all three Anacapa’s are visible.

Either way. Islands or fog. If I have to do this being conscious and alive thing, this is the only place it works.