stitches tender_square whole chunks of wall were cut away, their extracted discs left for me to reassemble. after the dust settled, a perfect fit wasn't possible; an eclipse encircled each piece with absence. i took a stick of recycled wood given for free from a paint supplier and braced the wound from within. surface holes drilled left torque for long screws to pierce through twinned slabs of gypsum and into the tenuous brace. the puzzle piece doesn't sit flush, there's a recess that can't be helped. flexible fibratape tries to make a bridge, gives a mesh bed for mud to mix with. i am a surgeon doing my best not to leave evidence of scars. 230218 ... tender_square dad said the hole shouldn't be concave like it was in my photograph, the drywall piece was supposed to sit flush with the wall. i had already plastered over the stitching earlier that day, starting with small spreads and working into globs of paste. the netting soaked up so much, less barrier and more bowl. "that'll never dry," he chastened. "it's going to shrink and crack." i already saw evidence of that process: finger smoothing a crack the way i would through caulk only left a bigger blemish on the wall. i should've left well alone. the paint stick i used wasn't strong enough to withstand the pressure of screws, snapping the first time i attempted to mount it inside gaping wall. "what do i do?" i asked him helplessly. "wait for it to dry and take it all apart," he said. the prospect of starting all over again makes me feel no further ahead, that in my life i'm rushing sloppily to fill the gaps that have appeared with being back on my own. 230220 ... tender_square the wall seemed smooth to the touch, but i was too timid rubbing with rough paper, fearing i would expose the grafts beneath the surface. in the frustration of weariness and wanting to move on, i rolled paint over its pale face. it's grotesque, the ridges and bumps of that swollen visage. i'm angry at myself for not being better when i'm a beginner, when i did my best and the evidence of how i fell short is painfully visible. 230222 what's it to you? who go blather from