I got soul but I’m not a soldier

I am nervous. The prospect of somebody cutting into my father is very disturbing. But it is for his own good, right? So I should just be responsible and do whatever is needed. I can hear him tossing and turning even now. He’s having a hard time sleeping.

I have always needed his approval for everything. I think I still do. It’s frightening when he is frightened. My undergraduate thesis was based on my mother’s insides. Then, my work turned into something about my insides. I am accustomed to talking about my art-work, articulating every aspect of the practice. But now that I think about it, I really didn’t know what the hell I was doing. It just happened and I had to think about it later to understand it.

I am so nervous about tomorrow.

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