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I climbed the ladder leaning against the trunk and did battle with the biggest strands of it choking some limbs to death. I removed a lot of dead tree along with some mighty long ropes of vine. And in the center of the tree, as I stood on the top rung of the ladder I was torn to shreds by the thicket of deadwood at the center. I have wounds to prove that this was a battle royal. The vine won this round, but I'm far from done.
Can you blame me for hugging myself? I obviously need a hug. I just climbed down from the inside of a prickly tree, it's 5:30 and I've been working in my sleeping boxers and wife-beater. I haven't combed my hair in two days. I don't even think I washed my face today. That's a gawd-awful picture of me hugging myself to show my wounds. But it's the me I live with. Obsessed in everything I do. And without any modesty at all. I might as well garden naked.