Here are some words about being home:

When I first got home I felt like a mess, I felt like my reference points for everything had been sent to the place where lost socks go. This lasted for a couple months, I don't know why but it was as though I was trying to use a train schedule from 1987 to get through every day. I started working at the buddhist AIDS hospice where I had been working before I left, we just moved into a new facility and there was much work to be done so instead of cooking I started caulking, nail-gunning and wiring fire alarms. This was enjoyable. I slowly got back in the routine of yoga and then I joined a gay swim team which as my mom would say is a real hoot. We have finally opened and the facility is newly a Residential Care Facility rather than a hospice because so many people are living longer with HIV. This is hard work. My brain is always spinning about sickness and justice. I wrote this a couple days ago: Right and wrong is the most useless sense to have. It will get you nowhere except maybe you won't belt your friend when they've been real stupid. Other than that it's a one-way ticket to brain damage as far as I can tell because you can't use it to explain tragedy on any scale and let's just begin with people who become sick and die long deaths in pain that completely alters their reference point for comfort or communication and mothers who try to take care of the sand sliding through their dry fingers. Other than that I've performed a few times and I'm trucking along and I feel much more at peace than a month or two ago. So it goes. So that's all, I think I've gone on long enough for you, yes? I hope this was not overwhelming. Your friend in Christ, Tara

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