Saturday, March 27

Stayed out too late three nights in a row, spent the day trying to make it up to my body but couldn't find a way to get comfortable. Tried napping but the music is too loud shut the door and just when eyes agree to stay closed wake to the sound of furniture being thrown off the front porch. The round wooden table I have eaten at since I was a child and the metal couch I had helped my grandmother cover with blue vinyl to withstand the weather- the perfect place for an outdoor nap in the sun. Both thrown off the porch and broken before being sent away and all I can think of as I am listening is my aunt a few weeks before she died sitting in the sun on the porch eyes almost vacant but still some light and her little girl barely a year old playing on the same furniture I played on.

Why do this? Why break things? Can't we just leave them be until the time comes to leave them behind?

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