this mess we're in.

[thejunipertree]

Too much in my head, not enough room to let it run around for a bit. I always tell myself that I'm going to use this journal more often for hashing out the swirling mess inside my skull, but it so very rarely actually winds up happening. Usually because by the time I sit down at my desk, the whirl has become unmanagable and I'm exhausted.

I still haven't figured out the mother situation. And every time I think about it, it makes me want to scream bloody murder at the unfairness of it all. Bloody. Fucking. Murder.

This morning, I dreamt I was the Queen of the Ring-Tailed Lemurs.

Papa Legba, give me strength to survive this. And protection on my household.