I thought about you today, you and your casual ways. The way your eyes sparkle when you smile or the way your hand touch the back of your guitar as you play. I love it when you play, the way your voice tremble on those high tones.
I feel it - the stress! I am not good with that sort of thing and right now I feel that I have to slow down a bit. I wish I could go on a trip, just a little one, to clear my head. I think about too much TOO often and it's driving me insane.
I ignored my fever earlier today and went out on the porch to take this picture. I like this time of day, when the sun slowly sets and the branches paint lovely contours on the sky.
I know that you too watched the sun set today, out there in the woods past that old railroad by yourself I was there as well, at least in thought warming your hands and leaning against that old car of yours just like old times.
I saw this woman yesterday as I was walking through the supermarket. She looked as if she was on top of the world for she looked down on everybody that passed. This kinda upset me you see, since I believe we all are equal, that no one is better than the other. I have never stumbeled upon this kind of behavior before, at least not to this very height.
She walked there, with her hands in her pockets and her nose so high above the clouds that I nearly thought her head would fall off. Why are people this way?
She looked french but she probably wasn't, she had a black barret on her head and her hair was swirled up in a big bun in the back of her neck. She almost looked like a writer since I immediately thought of Virginia Woolf and the way she tried to write her way out of misery.
This quote by Virginia came to me as I watched this woman dance up and down the iles:
"On the outskirts of every agony sits some observant fellow who points."
I woke up this morning with a terrible cold. Not exactly my wish for this christmas holiday but somethings are obviously out of our reach. Anyway, I wanted to share these beautiful branches with you. They grow right outside my bedroom window and their beautiful simple lines inspire me so. Merry Christmas.
I feel it now, the anxiety, the sadness. It's the night before my birthday and each year these feelings come alive. Tomorrow I will turn 24 and for the last 23 birthdays my mother has never called to greet me, not once. I sit by the phone, waiting, and the whole day gets ruined, just like my very soul. So tomorrow I shall not celebrate at all.
I shall only make a little mark in my calendar to remind me that I've gotten a year older.
Mom, I hope you'll wake up from your evil slumber one day and realize what you've missed.
I found some old photos of me as a little girl today. I wanted to share these beacause they fill me with such emotions, both good and bad. I was so young here, totally unaware of the rough world outside. I was safe and not yet brokenhearted.
I feel sad beacause mom missed out on all this. She broke my heart. It's strange but I always get misty-eyed when I look at these.
Filled with frustration I search, running up stairs and down alleyways, exploring old streetcorners but you are nowhere to be seen. The streetlight above me casts an evil grin on the wall, as if to remind of this foolish hunt.
One might think I should have grown accustomed to this loneliness but now, but you are all wrong and I shall search until my feet are soar with blood. Nothing, not even the dark valley of shadows will hold me back.
My hands will eventually grow numb by the evening chill but I shall carry on. On and on til' my heart stops or you are found.