It's every bit as fun as I'd hoped it to be, coming back to St. Louis for a month. It's just not for the reasons I had anticipated. As I type here, on a PC in the first floor of CAMP, I am shaking, under-slept and over-loved. The familiarity of this town so devastated my new social habits that I've learned new ways of being satisfied with the words I speak to myself and the little things that keep me alive. Like water. Water in St. Louis. And I read the news. And hide in spaces that seem far away because of their abandoned qualities.
Aimless wanderings, cold weather, and no appetite. It feels just right.
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