This fuckin' day

Well, tonight I threw up off a bridge, so I can cross that off my bucket list. Though in this case I just wish I'd been at home, and with an actual bucket. Also many other terrible things happened. Hey, let's look at pictures now.

Annnd...I'm going to bed. I hope I feel better tomorrow; I called in to work, but I want to wake up early and see how I feel because that's a good chunk of hours I'm missing :/
fff

Just a piece of time in the world

Kind of a melancholy day. Making a lot of progress on projects though.
I found out that my Grandma's not doing so well. She hasn't been eating or taking care of herself, and everyone's pretty freaked out about it. I feel really helpless about the whole thing -- I was trying to think of something I could do to help, but I honestly don't know how. I'm working on a picture for her, but I don't know if it'll help or not... we have very different interpretations of the world, and it makes me unsure how to comfort her because I know that what I personally find comforting is kind of odd anyway, and might...I don't know, unsettle her? Maybe it's that I want to talk to her about what she's going through, but our established relationship dynamic kind of prevents me from that. Anyway, the helplessness makes me really fucking annoyed with myself. Actually, I guess the helplessness just kind of adds to the stack at this point. What the fuck, self? What the fuck are you doing.

Gahhhhh.

(We all go through it together,

but we all go at it alone)

And I don't want to fence you --

I know that I sense you

have someone else's heart.

And I have a sliver of love now;

I won't push and shove now

(I hope you come around).

Tending to motion

Well, on my way back from Washington (which was delightful); Bellingham really is a beautiful city -- I should probably have taken more pictures of the bay and the architecture around town. They have an AWESOME local bookstore and, while it can get a little cold, everything is green and gorgeous (there are plants and moss eeeeeverywhere; I love it). Their streets are insane, though.

I'm in the airport now, which seems weirdly devoid of time. The person sitting next to you may be just starting their journey, or they may have been travelling for days. People are sleeping on benches, getting a drink at the bar or a cup of coffee in the cafe. Breakfast or dinner? Early or late? The time of the actual place (somewhat) ceases to matter as your own personal little bubble of travel time goes along with you from airport to airport like another carry-on.
Okay, I just re-read that paragraph...man, I hope I can get some sleep today -- I think I need it.

Heeere's some links:

Pussy Riot and Zizek being buddies (as they should)

Mechanical bacteria death!