well, the dance went ok.. i felt dumb, but then it was over. i still feel kind of dumb for having done it, but we got good comments on what to work on. it needs a lot of work. it wasn't all in all that bad, though. i feel a little bit better, but we're still really fucking poor. the lecturers were my boyo and my dad and a friend. they all really DO care about me, but i think maybe they forget how very very much i worry about everything. i guess it'll work itself out, though. it has to.
it was warm today. i didn't see the best part of the day because i was angry so i slept through it, but it's still pretty warm. there are blossoms all over the place. i closed my eyes and the yellow splotches shaped themselves into poppies. poppies behind my eyes - can't ask for much more on a nice day. better than ants - if i watch ants for any amount of time, they crawl around behind my eyes and make me nervous.
i wish i could live in someone else's skin for a day - just to see how it feels. mine is so overly-associated.. everything sparks so many other things. and i like it, but sometimes it's tiring.
piece of infor-mei-tion you didn't need to know:
when i brush my teeth i always brush the back of my tongue too, where nasty stuff builds up. it usually makes me gag a little bit, but my mouth doesn't feel clean unless i do it.
i used to be good at boxing up my feelings so people couldn't see them. i can't tell if losing that ability is a good thing or a bad thing. when i'm grumpy i look and talk and act grumpy... it's probably unnecessary and kind of sulky, especially because it's usually over dumb stuff. i suppose it's probably a good thing, but still...
i love to cross my eyes slightly and see where i can find coronas. little halos twinkling off everywhere. my keys, glaring whitegold from their hook. from outside, the gaps between leaves, a tangled cluster of sparkling bits. the lamp in the other room - the bulbs bright, the reflection from the metal parts of the lampshade dimmer, watching. wallflowers watching sparkling conversation in the middle of the party.
maybe i'll get work done tonight. maybe i'll go to my office. maybe i'll even go to yoga. hopefully. unlikely. i can hope, though, can't i? losing hope is an unpleasent idea.
tell me, when you look out of your window, from where you're sitting now, what do you see?
it was warm today. i didn't see the best part of the day because i was angry so i slept through it, but it's still pretty warm. there are blossoms all over the place. i closed my eyes and the yellow splotches shaped themselves into poppies. poppies behind my eyes - can't ask for much more on a nice day. better than ants - if i watch ants for any amount of time, they crawl around behind my eyes and make me nervous.
i wish i could live in someone else's skin for a day - just to see how it feels. mine is so overly-associated.. everything sparks so many other things. and i like it, but sometimes it's tiring.
piece of infor-mei-tion you didn't need to know:
when i brush my teeth i always brush the back of my tongue too, where nasty stuff builds up. it usually makes me gag a little bit, but my mouth doesn't feel clean unless i do it.
i used to be good at boxing up my feelings so people couldn't see them. i can't tell if losing that ability is a good thing or a bad thing. when i'm grumpy i look and talk and act grumpy... it's probably unnecessary and kind of sulky, especially because it's usually over dumb stuff. i suppose it's probably a good thing, but still...
i love to cross my eyes slightly and see where i can find coronas. little halos twinkling off everywhere. my keys, glaring whitegold from their hook. from outside, the gaps between leaves, a tangled cluster of sparkling bits. the lamp in the other room - the bulbs bright, the reflection from the metal parts of the lampshade dimmer, watching. wallflowers watching sparkling conversation in the middle of the party.
maybe i'll get work done tonight. maybe i'll go to my office. maybe i'll even go to yoga. hopefully. unlikely. i can hope, though, can't i? losing hope is an unpleasent idea.
tell me, when you look out of your window, from where you're sitting now, what do you see?
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
you're writing reminds me of sylvia plath, particularly her journals. or maybe it's just the fact that i've been reading her writing and now reading your journal it's kinda like hers...
Mei asked what is "a custom vinyl poem"?
I don't know--I just coined the phrase. It's a poem, written especially for the recipient, but kind of slick and sexy like vinyl. Ya dig?
[Edited on Apr 10, 2003]