Where The Painful Things Go
The things that you find when ya ain’t AT ALL looking for them, geesh. My closet door wouldn’t close, and kept creaking and coming open. So I had to take these boxes out, and re-arrange them. In one of the boxes is Tim’s records, notes, receipts etal from that year and some – ephemera from a life of pain and sadness. So I had to … Continue reading Where The Painful Things Go