azazel and yahweh are merged and dissolved.

ive spent a long time homeless. i sleep in the woods, mostly stearing clear of other people. i forget what its like to have a roof over my head.

at the time of writing this i am itinerant. if ever i have a home its not going to mean the same thing that it did before. the physical structure is apparent, but the psychic structure of “safe place” and “boundary of demarcation between You and It” arent things which really hold for me now. theres no difference between outside and inside.

i look at wooden houses and imagine them imploded, cracked planks bent and groaning inwards. my body is strewn over the threshhold, neither in nor out.