Remarriage.

it is my firm belief that outlooks, in general, are essential to dealing with the muck and mud that sucks your legs up to the knees. they are, as most powerful and precious things typically are, made of magic. they seem to fill in the cracks in one's consciousness, cracks made by the constant vibrations of joy, or self-doubt, or cynicysm, or whatever the mood of the moment may be. they premeditate any attempts at rebellion.
right now, mine looks like an old silver teapot, not one that is whistling over a fire, but rather one that is proudly and quiety displayed in a cabinet or decorative shelf.
i'm in an okay place, you see.

also, my spine has melted.
don't be alarmed.

-