elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- feel it on my fingertips I find myself thinking things like "my heart aches for you" and I want to type this in an email to my girlfriend. And I do. does that make me a cheeseball? yes. Yum, cheese. I love cheese. One of the reasons I could never be too skinny is because i looooove cheese and will put it on anything and everything if nobody is around. sandwiches, soup, rice, chili, potatos, pasta, little trays of olives and cheese and hard boiled eggs that i eat in little bites in front of the tv. just big hunks of cheese. yum. i just wrote her, by the way, the cheeseballiest email ever, because i'm in a serene, writy-type mood tonight, although you wouldn't know it right now. but it's raining. it's raining, hard. it's raining like the clouds just realized how to do it. I have the door open so everything is loud and wet, and the air coming in smells like rain.
little kittens are roaming around with their noses in the air, smelling. since they've been alive it's only rained the last three days. they don't know why the air pressure is different, why the air is heavy and wet. now i have a kitten crawling up my pant leg, and also, ow. I'm afraid of her coming back, a little. i'm afraid that things will be different, that her mental image of me, the girl she thinks is perfect maybe because she's been gone for two months, that that girl is wrong and gone and i'm just plain old schlumpy me, nothing special. this is because I have anxiety and abandonment issues. i haven't finished my paper yet. in fact, i'll tell the truth here: i've only written 4 pages. (out of 20.) I've been telling people it's 'almost done' when it really isn't. i would be in bed but the kittens are running around, literally, making little pitter patter noises, occasionally crashing into things, each other, pouncing, biting each other. being kittens. mama cat is annoyed because she thinks they are crazy, and so meows every five seconds. poor lady trying to keep track. i don't usually keep the glass door open this late, especially when i'm alone, because I'm on the first floor and twice people have been on my balcony. but the rain sounds like home. beautiful sunny skies are wonderful, but not homey: i grew up in the wet, the dank, the humid heavy air that comes with a hard, pounding rain. 11:28 p.m. - 2004-08-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||