I have been absent from this site for a year. Maybe less.

For slightly longer than that, I have been working at a mortuary. At first, I was able to look at it objectively. I still am, I think. The problem is that, I suppose, there comes a point at which one has seen too much.

It was meant to be temporary work, but I have not yet found another job, and will have to continue with this until I do.

I wrote in a pamphlet sometime in 2008 something like "the stench is viscous and has attached itself to everything". If only I knew how that one statement would soon come to paint a perfect picture of my day-to-day existence.

Now I am in complete isolation. It is my own choice. I do not feel that after the experiences of the last year I can relate anymore to my fellow human being. What decent topic could I possibly discuss? What could he/she say that I would not find totally banal and superfluous?

I would like a change of pace.

The work schedule is sporadic. I am usually there in the ungodly hours of the morning, and sleeping during the day. It is hard to find the willpower to draw or paint. I do draw, but I have not painted in some time. When I draw, I usually do not finish. And the subject matter has severely decreased in the area of novelty, which I once valued above all else.

Nevertheless, I feel like I will have the energy to scan some things soon, and maybe even post them. In some time I will be at my drawing regularly again, but I am not yet ready.

I have typed this post several times over the course of the last year, worded differently each time, because each time the conditions were slightly different. But I have found myself online more often in the last week, and have decided to post it this time.

I have been, am currently, and will be (for short while longer) absent (from www.deviantart.com).

I am likewise absent from most everything else with few exceptions.

Do not fear; though I am completely absent in most areas, I am present in some areas. I still exist in a number of different ways.

With love and respect for most,
Josef/ine.

I see the beginning and the end.

All of the bullets fired in the name of God,
From a rusty rifle.
Marching blindly in search of Oblivion,
And that is where I was when I opened my eyes.

Where are you now, comrade?
A seperate Hell, perhaps,
Or a more appropriate one.
Or perhaps you were sent to the front,
Back to the trenches.

I do not wish you were here,
For there is no beauty here,
And you are beautiful.

i feel sometimes as if i have outlived myself.

how much dissapointment i have been the source of...
hope has been placed in me
or somewhere near, but it has missed its mark
and landed in the sea.

my heart is unscathed by arrows but it is food for dogs.

when i was a small boy, i wanted to be a knight.
when i was a small boy, i wanted to be a little girl.

now i want to be a knight
now i want to be a little girl.

i am neither.
i am "man"
i am dog.

i am skinny.
i am bad.
i am an ugly, hairy girl.