I Can’t Deal

My digits are now tipped in these rather strange talons most people call fingernails as mine have been bitten off for some 30 odd years e’er since tooth discovered keratin. I find it strange – it makes typing far more haphazardous – and I’ve lost the oral fixation Freud hurr-hurred on about for psychopaths and Oedipusians.

After walking Camino for a third time, it seems the habit was left behind like a stone of ill-intentions at the Cruz de Ferro.

And after walking Camino, I find myself once more having that “Come to Jesus” moment about what is reality and where am I going with it.

Continue reading “I Can’t Deal”

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