I turned over a new leaf again on Wednesday.

I'm like the deadbeat dad I never had: always making promises to myself I never kept. Disappointment fresh, like the first time every time. Appointments missed, money wasted, dreams put on hold. Again. In the end, still stuffing overdue notices on borrowed time in the glove compartment, the junk drawer.

But this time I swear it's different. It'll work this time. It'll be great.

This time I can't just drive away.

ink :: graphite