I started the month in my childhood home, storming my brothers’ rooms in the mornings looking for someone to play with. It’s getting colder and I’m talking to myself more, ranting and raving and making nothing of it. Looking around, looking in, still waiting for something to take me. Went upstate to a beautiful cabin after a snowstorm and put colored lightbulbs in every room. We did drugs and played hide and seek and made a music video until dawn. I get home and sleep for a week, briefly opening my eyes to answer emails and send files. Had a happy potluck Thanksgiving in an old friend’s living room, drinking wine and listening to her guinea pigs squeak down the hall. We play games until the middle of the night and I don’t fall asleep on the J on the way home this time, I think I may be growing up.