the emptying, in pictures

And on and on it goes. Goal is to be cleared out by the New Year. Getting everything in a few rooms so when the donation center comes to pick up almost everything, the emptying-emptying should go rather quickly. Pool table makes its way to its new (halfway) home today.

void/bridge

As I get his house emptier and emptier, the void of his absence grows more profound (felt it deeply the other day) – not that I have any emotional connection to that place: my grandparents' moving there cost me the only house that ever felt like home; no, I think it's – other than him, my rock, being gone, of course – more from the unease of seeing my purpose in this particular life event coming to a (merciful) close and, while the uncertainty in and of itself isn't necessarily terrifying, its illicit coupling with the other void – similarly one of lack of purpose, a void which writing's ability to assuage is waning – is a recipe for if not disaster then at least increased happy pill dosage. Vigilance factor against the worst aspects of my nature: elevated – but for now, I have pool tables to move and am, if nothing else, fully in love with having a pickup; I suppose I'll blow up the other bridges as I cross them.

GTA VI (trailer 1)

At last (and dig the Tom Petty deep cut)…

Update: I'd do well to remember that those awful first workblocks of the morning more often than not herald excellent second workblocks – especially once I get my head out of my ass.

Hoping that the lack of any creative / work impulse, drive, or ethic is nothing more than a byproduct of perpetual mental interruption of the albatross-gauntlet of the emptying of my grandfather's house and the exhausting hell of the last several months, but mornings like this one make me question whether that's all there is to it.