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 Untitled (Feb. 7, 2016) |
Transcription
Irish Soup Journal
The best places I've ever visited were the places I visited with you. Thank you for caring.
Drawing and painting are easier to remember and can hold more information than words. They continue to speak to us long after we see them and have something new to show us each time we see them.
I really have no one I can communicate with here in prison. It feels that I'm alone on an island in a cave.
If you don't look out for your friends and loved ones who else will? When it rains at Maine eventually it will stop.
It is a fallacy that one is doing alright in prison - the best you can do is survive.
I was an ill-tempered mutant, I think sometimes I didn't get enough love as a boy.
Aching losses and jubilation are only the passing of years.
Dillan was my grandpa Burkett name.
You have fluttered away like a butterfly, you don't know me anymore, I doubt you even want to know me.
Consider this, we used to be young so what do you think?
I get lost in old memories that are all fading away. I wish I could find my way home but all the bridges have long disappeared. No one exists anymore outside of my memory and no one in my old address book.
On a warm December day I'm thinking about you I hope you are doing well, and happy. I can feel your presence here with me in my solitary life and I smile with you.
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