An inch is better than a mile.

This blog has never been one to convey my current state of emotions and woes, and I've always made sure that I wouldn't do that. But somehow I feel the urge to write and write about my state of affairs because at this point in my situation I don't know if I'm moving forward or backwards and having this here to post may be a good thing to look back at and say Kim, you fucking made it and look where you are now. (Me trying to be optimistic).



In light of my brimming sadness I went on a day trip to Fargo to hunt for junk, good junk. It kept me busy but generated morose thoughts. It was nice to be with good people and to do something that I enjoy, but I used to do all this with him, and those memories would flood back despite how hard I would push them back and try to turn that switch off.............tbc.



So, I said I would continue on with this post, but this subject/topic really makes me tired physically and emotionally. I really don't feel like opening this door again, and again and again. I'll just let it marinate in my head I suppose. This was sort of a tbc in it's own way.

Unit Black Flight - Tragedy on the 4th floor

Maybe one day in I can look back and say, "yeah, those were the fat days."