Most days I wish my work could work. Simply work. To provide the means for me to survive, comfortably, in good spirits, and in the company of others. This is a difficult wish.

Some days, and most nights, I wish my work could heal. Could in some way repair the damage done to this world (perhaps by my other work). Could in some way repair me. Provide catharsis from the things that ail me, from the sickening loneliness, from the lack of beauty. This is harder still.

Tomorrow, I wish not to work. Tomorrow is May 1st, 2012. Helicopters drone in the sky tonight. Tomorrow, I will be in the street. With you, without work.