Having to move to a new home is no joke, no laughing matter, not easy. There are all kinds of reasons for this, not the least of which is having to say goodbye to your home, this being all the more difficult when it is a home you’d much rather not leave.
There are times too, at least for me, when I find myself in a kind of on-fire fury at the circumstances. The old street blood simmers than boils and I find myself in admittedly juvenile fashion wishing someone would start a fight with me so I might be allowed to demolish, if not the reality of current circumstances, something, or someone. Obviously I would not actually do this, though if someone were to start with me they’d be brought to heel so quickly there would be ample time for me to explain, while we were waiting for law enforcement to arrive and lock the shit up, the depth of gratitude they should be feeling by offering a detailed explanation of the family of bones in their body that remain unbroken because I trade my sobriety in for no one.
Anyway, the beat and the days roll on. And so it goes.