Frenchmen Street

I want to have written but I don't feel like writing. There is a lot to catch up on if this blahg is intended to chronicle my life, but I'm so drained from it all that I can't delve. And anyone reading this probably knows me decently well and probably knows what's going on. I feel like I'm going through an emotional growth spurt and am learning, tiny bit by tiny bit, how to temper my sensitivity and reactions. There will be some regressing of course, but hopefully not much.

I am deeply missing New Orleans these days. I think I will take myself down there when the dust settles a bit if, in fact, it does before the sweltering days of hurricane season arrive. God I hope that's the case.

I visit New Orleans several times a week in my dreams. I've created one place in particular, a divey bar with live music that I frequent but can never find on my own. Sometimes it's also in Paris, sometimes the Lower East Side, but always New Orleans. I've had vivid recurring dreams all my life, some of which have become transparent, some that have not.

I hope I figure out how to get to that bar on my own.