Feeling not too bad at all, considering the toothache. Wee man ate his breakfast with his mum. Half a tantrum followed me "ok" when I refused too put the telly on. He was signing and laughing in his sleep last night, he is brill.
Today I will leave the poems I think, to look at the war poem tomorrow, its hardly a joy to work on and leaves me feeling pretty trained and vulnerable sometimes. But it's empowering too, beautiful even. My words, my memories, my interpretations it's no longer a complete chore being me.
I have in last few days been considering writing a love poem, for my wife who lives with someone else. But that's fair enough really as in the past I tended to forget all about our serious and long term relationship. My priority has often been staying alive, with as little bullying, torture and slavery as possible. It's kind of difficult to rebuild your relationship with someone who can't remember your name and has no interest in you beyond your capacity for violence or your connections that can make things happen (or not happen). Its been rather lovely remembering, but pretty lonely too. Some many apparent opportunities just seemed ridiculous, things like that don't happen to me and not just because they too good or too public but because I know too much about what goes on behind the scenes and couldn't as a sane, rational, compassionate and terrified person consent to having to do with in the long term.
But this feels different, possible, real...