If Home is Where the Heart is, then Home Must be Somewhere in Colma

“to the 23th power”

I have never been more thoroughly decieved… Me!

Who decieves better than I? My tongue is forked and made of silver! I thought myself a master. I was only in the presence of one… Nothing is conclusive, but I suppose that’s kind of the point. Trust – the virtue I cherished above all else – gone. Never existed. Fidelity was a phantom, I played the fool, she the fiend. There is nothing I can believe anymore, except that I was happy in my ignorance. Oh, sweet ignorance. My curiosity has finally gotten the better of me.

I never thought I’d have to again, but I take up my trowel today once more. Not by choice, but out of necessity. The familiar smell of concrete is comforting. The result, fortifying. Masonry has once again, and to my deepest regret, become my habit.

Home…you really can’t ever go back.

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