This is becoming all too familiar, at the bottom was my signature on a painting of a shipwreck at sea, the captain refusing to abandon ship. Honestly I never meant to complicate things to the point where I left them. What was clear has become out of focus and somehow I managed to forget that my dress shirt on her shoulders, the answer to my problems. It see it in my… A picture, with no framework, dated last September. I see it in my sleep. At least I’ll admit that everything is on me. At least I’ll admit that I was never really trying. At least I’ll admit that it was probably fucking worth it. It was barely light when I woke up in a startle. Came to the conclusion that not all’s well, ends well. Is this the way to recovery? To talk about my failures?