Home.

Strange how the same room has so many faces... this morning I am repulsed, and by nothing in particular. Nothings changed, but the white is off white, scribbles in the steamed up mirror, objects clutter a window sill and bath edges. I’m repulsed by my own body, skin tone a horrid inconstant blotches in the light, unforgiving blast of sun, bleached (almost cold blue) through the frosted glass. My eye races from one ugliness to the next, foot, floor, ceiling, door, fingernail... I close those lids, wait and reopen, start this day afresh. Things are not so complex. This bathroom is what it is, and it has accommodated me, I pursue a line through the day, one that’ll relax this unknown discomfort, a bloody minded positive act that will remain out of reach, as long as it is there...