love everything to the ground

i'm home and i know i will have a book to write.  today my father asked me in all seriousness (thank the lord for anti-psychotic, anti-seizure medicine) if i would write "the book" and he thinks it's his story i will write, as charity/equity, for him and for hollywood, for the men of the family.  i said yes, of course, i will write the book.  but the thing is the book will not be his.  it will be mine, through my filters, my lack of them.  i'm done with the darkness handling me.  it's time for the white hot light to burn through and love everything to the ground.

it just started raining hard, i can hear through the window.  a godsend for sleeping, and i must catch up to the people who are already snoozing.  but the thing is i have a feeling i can't shake.  it's deep, it's good, and it's very very scary.  it affects my digestion.  i want to talk about it all the time, but i think i have to just wait and sit with it.  so i am going to go to sleep beside it.  under a thick and comforting blanket.