25 January

January is an odd looking word. I just realized that. The spelling does not look quite right. Lots of words of that way. I'll never understand "conscience" - con science. No way that's a word. But it is. No way Hunter would have been 31 years old today. But he would have been. Five and a half years. Long time, but not really. One of those always / never; sometimes / maybe things. Like the Goddamn shadows and flickering lights and pennies and inconsistencies I cannot comprehend. January 25. Once each year. Carry on my brother.