dead lines

i've jumped through every hoop they've put before me. now i prepare myself to go to a poetry intensive this weekend. whew. timing couldn't be better.

with a soon to be ex telling me to get out now, it's hard to find a reason to come home. i'm tired, and i need a break.

we've locked ourselves behind doors and share only tears and heartache now. there is no remedy. no resolution. we must part ways, we must.

but i am to go alone, or so i'm told. to walk away by myself. i spent the better part of the past week in tears, and, well, they don't look to be ending any time soon.

considering that residency program, at least applying. with the way things are going in the economy, it may be my only hope. the job front is precarious.

so i hesitate to sign a dotted line committing myself beyond my vastly limited means for a year. no. i need to find some place safe. so today at the equivalent of the watering hole, i mentioned i needed to find a room or a place. and one woman, one writer, may fit the bill.

it's not the solution i wanted, but it may be the solution i need.

i looked at an apartment yesterday that i want so bad. i want little more than that, but it is not the time for wants, it's the time for doing what must be done. and, perhaps that safest route, is the one which will put me in the home of another writer.

fortuitous.

we'll see. so i look to the future, and seen nothing but endings. and somewhere, there has to be a new something beginning. there just has to be.

peace. out.