"she said run some red lights"

[omnia_mutantur]

t minus nine days.

tried eating sausage for breakfast, and it didn't work out so well. a long drive to jordan's furniture netted me a blue strand of mardi gras beads. but west springfield means i own a couch and a matching loveseat and doublehandful of paint swatches, and the taste of northampton provided me with messy chocolatecovered strawberries, intriguingly good mixed berry shortcake from del raye and a menu for the new tibetan resteraunt. bumped into a handful of people from longago, and i never know exactly what to say to anyone.

kissing light in a state street parking lot, and i can feel the excitement about the house pouring off of him, and it's finally bubblygood, and i met the neatest person in the basement of faces, and she recognized my tattoos and we talked about everything from professors teaching us inflections and dikaeoplis (which i can't transliterate for shit) and pomegranate juice and cats and ferrets waking us up, and she has gorgeous tattoos and i announced i'd stalk her, and light just watched bemusedly.

so yesterday's lesson is that sometimes, it's not about how to figure out how to adapt to bad stimuli, but to actually talk to the other person. i don't have to just work in reaction, i can try and act. which opens scary doors, but he thanks me sometimes for bringing up the bad shit, and maybe i can learn that it's okay to want things to go in different directions, i'm not just floating at the whim of the current.

Comments

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

dikaiopolis...I know that's a character in an anti-war play...but doesn't it mean some equivalent of "everyman" for a city?

[omnia-mutantur.livejournal.com]

pretty much.

it's also the main character in this terribly amusing intro greek book called Athenazde. (again, i suck at transliteration) The kind where you learn sentences like "D is a farmer. Philip is his son. They work in the field.")