i spent a few hours in borders the other day and came across this book in the photography section. anything like this--books, blog posts, t-shirts--makes me cry. still. in borders, standing in front of the bookshelf flipping through the book in my hand and my chest closes up and i cry. it has been so long already. will it be like this forever?

the book is a lie. you can't find beauty in so much loss. everyone i know has pictures like this, but in real life they are not romantic, or beautiful, or nostalgic, or gently faded. they are harsh and hateful. they are shattered dreams and hopes and lives.

the cover photo is a foyer in a house in chalmette. chalmette, where i spent the first 25 years of my life. where my family and friends lived, until katrina. the only place that i really know. i mean know everything about. not that i liked it, but it was... well... still home. like my sister said the other day, a place where your body feels at peace, because you know exactly where you are.

i feel a little like tom hanks in the terminal (which was not good at all). but he got on the plane and before he could go home his country had disolved and so he was trapped. i want to go home, but home is gone. now i don't even know what i want. i am tired and i have no place to rest. when do i get over this?

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