This Might Be An Exit

I'm not sure what it is about drunken walks through the mission that promps me to write in this thing. But, the phenomenon presents itself nonetheless. Firstly, I love drunk walking home when my ipod shuffle is behaving itself - which it was tonight. And secondly, I feel as if I might be finally reclaiming the Briana that used to walk home drunk from god knows where to my old place in Santa Cruz. I feel like that Briana was fearless in the most important of ways - she had learned from experience and just tooled around campus and downtown like she owned it. She was into the bottom of the glass looking like a long, sobering walk home.

This Briana, this older and wiser woman has forgotten the ways of back then and has replaced them with a whole new set of vices. And the poetry of everyday life has somehow disappeared, and it's been hard to slow down and try to understand why.

So, in a drunken nutshell, this explains my inability to post regularly, if at all. But I sort of feel as if that tide is again changing.