citrus

i have this chronic issue with pushing my square ideas of self into the round holes other peoples' lives are responsible for...
if i describe or hear said almost anything about any other person, i'm immediately imagining the position. - not that i can completely zero in on what the reality of those lives would be like, afterall, i'm only living mine.
but damn it makes me crazy. it's kindof, in an abstract and indifferent context, a distraction from the actual Being of the Me.

or something.
mmm red wine.
one of the guys at the restaurant picked out a glass of corbieres and, though i've discovered i can buy it very inexpensively, i like it uh-lot.

~

late-night conversation with a long distant, dear friend...
a moody soundtrack,
we all seem to feel a little depressed inside sometimes... playing with the machine is a distraction from certain aspects of our awareness...
i let her talk , i only want to listen for a spell,
we share some stress about specific issues,
and then we share some conversation about what we're thinking and how it translates into our language, whatever it may be.

~

a stoned shower... which is really quite rare anymore.
a precious cat asleep in the chair, a chenille-esque throw.
a bed awaits... it's been since the last time i slept over that i was on a mattress. i wonder how i'll feel about it... but i can't sleep on the floor because of the hair - i'm alergic.

am i cheeze, so in love with the garden state soundtrack?
i am inclined to watch reality bites... what have we got here? not that.
al dente
i can start with the soundtrack, as well.
hrmmmm


the fancy about using a computer you're unfamiliar with is that it slows you down. what's funny is that even a paper page and ink have a similar effect.
what's fun about learning other languages is that i can explore my native tongue more closely by relating them all with the roots. which makes my habit toward "blah blah blah" still more amusing.


loving someone, maybe it could be any one, or even the ONE,
makes me a better person by beginning with igniting the desire to be...
theme-ily, "confuse us say... " ,,, ...

~

it's the eighteenth, now.
the number on the door to their building equals thirteen
we agree, i guess, that a happy ending means that the good guys won... whatever that means.

hi-ho, hi-ho