a matter of time

Some days I'm just sad. Down and out for reasons buried within beating body tissue. It's just a matter of time. Goodbyes weigh down my throat and threaten to choke tears from my eyes. The longer I wait the heavier they get. But I dread the explosion of their release. Headaches and weak limbs and faces red with sorrow. It's only a matter of time.

life is fascinating.

Today is close to being gone, but twenty three hours ago it was freshly the 9th of February. I live in the same apartment, the same room, that I did about three years ago. My life up until now has been rather repetitive in the sense that I have only had one major change. I consider a change of setting a major change. Today an interesting amount of almost-forgotten-under-the-bed-friends have contacted me. I think they have organized meetings about these days of simultaneous contact with me. That would be funny since all they would need to do was invite me to the meetings, then we could all hangout...but I guess that takes the point out of the meetings. I started my period today and in this particular moment my uterus feels like all the gravity of the earth is focused on pulling it out of my vagina. Gross. Sorry about that. I have to pee and I have goosebumps. Andrew reads in my bed, and I write mostly to pass the time until he finishes so we can sleep. I like him and we get along well. By well, I mean we get along better than I have with anyone else. Maybe except for Esmeralda, but she and I will never live out our dream life of love for each other because the world is not that simple. The world seems simple enough with him, in the kind of simple that most people, at least I think, want. I wonder if anything overly tragic will happen to me in my life. I wonder this because of a Frank Lloyd Wright documentary I watched earlier in my Design Seminar class. I find it fascinating how some lives turn out so boring while others are turned into movies, or should be. But life is just that--fascinating. Andrew's done. Goodnight. It's 11:11. I made a wish.

the first rainy days in 2o1o

Today I slept in. I sleep better when I’m the only body in the bed. I like having another beside me, but I sleep better when I’m not sharing. It’s been months but I still think of you at the times I shouldn’t anymore. I don’t think it’s because I want you, maybe it’s just innocent curiosity. Is there such a thing in thoughts like that? It’s hard to be alone. I like it too much and it can make me dormant from the social word. But I get lonely quick enough. My heart eases its way to my throat and slowly swells until I realize I need to breathe the air from another.

Today the grey sky sheds soft, wet needles on the freshly dense college town. School starts next week, and the kids are happy to be back, away from their parents’ homes. The weather doesn’t treat me as bad as I thought it would. I don’t have an umbrella, but my raincoat is a sufficient shield. The wind gets so bitter in the winter, and forces its disdain of the season up my skirt and into my coat hood, pushing it to my shoulders. My legs and lady parts are chilled. Though I can’t see them, I feel goose bumps peeking out all over my skin. Sometimes I imagine this is how my skin breathes. I’m not wearing panties for no particular reason. I just sometimes don’t wear them, and by sometimes I mean more than most people probably don’t wear panties. But I bet most people, if they even think about it, imagine that I am. Maybe they think I care enough to match my panties with my outfit, imagining fire engine red panties made to look like boy underwear hugging my round bottom that they don’t consider is crisp with goose bumps. But they’re wrong. I lack a brazier too. I know one day my breasts won’t sit so nicely, so I take advantage of this time when they do. I wear a tight t-shirt that would shamelessly display my nipples if it weren’t for the second layer of vest. My skirt sits high and hugs my ribs, and rain has seepingly intruded into the toes of my high tops. People move so funny in the rain. Guarding themselves and their valuable parts. The woman runs outside to throw a bag of trash away, holding an additional bag over her mullet that may have been nicely groomed earlier this morning. The rain, but mostly wind, makes it hard to tell. A couple holds tightly to an umbrella instead of each other. I see another couple doing the same later.

My days are numbered here, and it’s getting sad but hopeful. It’s always a little sad when you leave something you’ve known and gotten close to for a while. But the positive anticipation of whatever’s to come balances me out. But sometimes I think about this place and all that’s happened and my heart creeps up in my throat and begins to swell. I have to swallow to push it back down. Only four years have gone by and so much has changed. So much will still continue to change. I guess that’s what life is, though, a period of continuously changing time that belongs to a particular living thing. For now I am responsible for two lives—Me and my cat. I feel bad because the change soon to come in my life may not come in hers. But that in itself is change. Oh, these dreary days and the things they do to my mind. Hello to the new year of 2o1o.

two days after christmas

i walk to work under a blue sky and the sun tries really hard to warm the pink from my nose, but it's windy and winter. summer will be here soon, mr. sun. the days will again be long and hot and yours. the lake looks especially clear today, like it would feel similar to silk on my skin. today there is no dead--but peaceful looking--turtle floating in the headwaters, just cypress needles and oak leaves. i don't really know if they are oak leaves. work has gotten boring. i'm an insider now, and their jobs are never as fun. but i guess everyone sacrifices some enjoyment for money, right? please assure me that my life is not turning mundane. i do not really believe it is, but i feel like i should check my self with these one question pop quizes every so often. i think i'm getting weirded out about how quickly my life is moving. i hope that feeling goes away. probably only when i realize how it's already gone. i know i worry too much, but i convince myself that's the human thing to do. i don't really worry that much. i have forgotten how good it feels to write. i think school makes me forget that. it shouldn't. i love having all of this free time, but it lets me think, which is good, but it also drives me crazy. these thoughts cycle through my head as i stare blankly at my computer's screen trying to remember what boring database entry to do next. i really liked the wall wide window at first, but now it just seems to taunt me. how can people do this all their lives, is life really just that short? it's weird talking to strangers when i'm in this odd mood. i didn't mind filling tanks because the compressor was on and its loudness gave me an excuse not to talk to them. the compressor is so old, and i sit there with my utility earmuffs on trying to imagine it's prime and what the place was like back then. oh back then, i wonder when that will be a constant phrase in my speech pattern. my life feels strange to me sometimes. this fortune cookie just told me that honesty and friendship bring you fortune. this world feels strange to me sometimes. sometimes everything seems so real and sometimes it all seems so fake. othertimes i'm pretty happy, i think. how happy can someone be? othertimes i feel good about what i see. i believe in the colors and faces. othertimes everything amazes me. i like feeling crazy, because the crazy people have more fun in life. it's okay to act exactly how you feel, unless you don't feel good a lot, then that seems wrong.

i've been having weird dreams lately, a lot of them.

getting my life together

I've been torn down. My heart hurts, my mind's tired, and my body's stagnant.

But I'm picking up the pieces.

Went to the dentist for the first time in almost four years yesterday.
Took my car in and got it all fixed up.
Today I'm starting back on my regular work out routine and catching up on my school work.
I'm going to outline a payment plan that I WILL follow for my credit card.
I'm going to start making my future plans reality.
I need to update my resume.
No more sleeping in when I have other things to do.
Why did I stop reading? Starting that up again, too. Library after work.
No more hanging out until my work is finished.

I'm a big girl now.

could it be true..

the love that's tearing you down
is the love that will turn you around

bleep

how do robots learn to love? program me, please.