Element Amenities

A weird, evolving website inspired by addiction and recovery. 

Night time. The time when I think too much….inside my head some crazy, crazy stuff. Daytime I feel good, distracted, doing very fun stuff, like driving and hiking around. These days I let myself go there and replay the memory, to take away its power.

After that fucking, crazy creative writing thing I had going on with Brandy and her dude. I mean, I had no idea the experience I had was going to bring up so many more visual things, memories, and questions to myself. Like how long have I been reckless with my physical self, not actually caring for the whole thing, mind, and body?  I’m reflecting on what happens when you tell yourself, you’re a bad person for a long time. You treat yourself like shit.

Instead of re-fucking traumatizing myself in my head of memories, I think of my good ones. And I write. It’s kinda like having a nice crisp glass of Pinot Gri,  in an expensive glass. This is better though, it’s cleansing my fucking soul. Now if I hear his accent in my head I tell it to fuck off. I mean I am actually saying it out loud. Grreat, now I’m gonna really look crazy. I do it for two reasons, one because it works, and two it gives me back my power. It was the tactile part that threw me. Love is supposed to feel gentle and kind. And comes from a place deep inside. He didn’t have that.

I am very tactile. I love feeling fabrics, and textures. When I lived in London, I used to go to Liberties on Regent St. just to feel the fabrics. They have a spectacular fabric department. The building itself is styled after the Tudor era. Very cool. As I run my hand down the thin motel bedspread and gaze at the 70’s wood-paneled wall, I’m in a very rural part of Manitoba, not many options. This motel is giving me some good creepy creative vibes. I love it. I can picture it in the winter,  a mist monster in our world piled high with snow. That’s just what it looks like. You can tell it’s built for a hard winter, the potholes are insane. The buildings are squat, with small windows so warm air can’t escape in the -40 below it reaches. And you can smell it, I just walked outside to smoke and I smelled that familiar winter is coming smell.