typical Wednesday.

I was sitting eating a chicken pie and mashed potatoes at Gabriel's Wharf like I do every Wednesday now, listening to "Location" by Freelance Whales and rereading Linda Hutcheon's "A Theory of Adaptation." Then all of the sudden I realized there were tears in my eyes, and I don't know why.

I am starting to sense your location

in an old abandoned mansion
in a countryside of England
spirits trapped inside the linens
and you’re feeling quite at home there
also feeling somewhat lonely
no one sees you in your pixelated fishnets...