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omnia_mutanturif someone knows what the fuck is going on with me, feel free to let me know.
it's like i've suddenly developed the ability to contain eleven simultaneous moods. most of them good, a couple verging on fantastic, but also including worried, annoyed and concerned/troubled. frost that with the fact i've been writing furiously about a part of my past i don't even think history has the details about. a couple people reading this know bits, but if they do read this, they read it pretty passively. i show it to different people, not because it's like confessing, but because it's almost a gloss of where who i am now comes from. but it's full of real names and real details and it reads, to me, like being skinned with a carrotpeeler, and it's always on my mind, now.
i've finished three books in the past couple days. Unknown Errors of Our Lives, It Must Have Been Something I Ate, and Buffalo Gals. i bought an instant camera to take pictures of my life for SuperSecretCrush (which is her new name) and i smile like i've got a secrete when i get emails from her, because i do, and light thinks it's adorable, but i don't know what to take pictures of.
and i can't stop counting the days until light is here. i know the number in my head, but counting it out on the calendar is like having a worrystone for my mind. and the new glasses entertain me daily as i realize i can read things that are far away.
atlantic wants a mountain bike for graduation, or some funding for one. i'm leaving the finding of one up to him, since it seems excessively personal a thing, but hints from the home audience on where to look are always helpful.
it's like i've suddenly developed the ability to contain eleven simultaneous moods. most of them good, a couple verging on fantastic, but also including worried, annoyed and concerned/troubled. frost that with the fact i've been writing furiously about a part of my past i don't even think history has the details about. a couple people reading this know bits, but if they do read this, they read it pretty passively. i show it to different people, not because it's like confessing, but because it's almost a gloss of where who i am now comes from. but it's full of real names and real details and it reads, to me, like being skinned with a carrotpeeler, and it's always on my mind, now.
i've finished three books in the past couple days. Unknown Errors of Our Lives, It Must Have Been Something I Ate, and Buffalo Gals. i bought an instant camera to take pictures of my life for SuperSecretCrush (which is her new name) and i smile like i've got a secrete when i get emails from her, because i do, and light thinks it's adorable, but i don't know what to take pictures of.
and i can't stop counting the days until light is here. i know the number in my head, but counting it out on the calendar is like having a worrystone for my mind. and the new glasses entertain me daily as i realize i can read things that are far away.
atlantic wants a mountain bike for graduation, or some funding for one. i'm leaving the finding of one up to him, since it seems excessively personal a thing, but hints from the home audience on where to look are always helpful.
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 12:56 pm (UTC)A carrot peeler is exactly the right image for what it feels like when I talk about certain periods of my life, too.
no subject
Date: 2004-05-13 06:37 pm (UTC)"i'd like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing"
wow. i've felt that way before. i think i miss it.
oh... and, for the writing part...consider it this way... congradulations hun, you're finally ready to admit to yourself that it happened, it affected you, it hurt you, you're different because of it, and that's ok.
*hugs*
i Love you.