what a fucking week. work, work, work. i turned in 60 pages today, which is pretty good. behind in all my other classes, but i guess that's kind of understandable. i'm fighting the desperate urge to kick myself about something - i didn't work hard enough, i slept too much, i messed up somehow. i guess i just need sleep.
to be honest, aside from a vague sense that there was a lot of work to do, i don't even remember the week that well. ah, the joys of medications that destroy your short-term memory. and if you don't remember it it didn't happen, right? *poof* allgone.
the cherry blossoms at school are slowly making way for baby green leaves. i can just barely reach the end of a branch, so i grab it and shake timidly, then harder. the blossoms lose their tenuous grip, and fall, twisting in a mad soft snowpetal dance.
this is the stuff of dreams, and crazy camera angles. the haze of tiny soft circles obscures my vision, and for a fraction of a moment i am in an entirely different place. i am four, eating the snow off of the branches of pine trees. i am five, singing songs about roses and toeses into a tape recorder. i am eight, flying dizzy in a tire swing. i am eleven, in a nest of blankets.
and something very tiny snaps in me, and i am perfectly, completely happy for a just a second. but then the petals ripple away, and i am left alone. during my meeting, i shift in my seat, and petals fall from the crevices in my sleeve. i brush my hand over my hair, and feel soft touches on my cheeks. involuntary souvenirs, clinging to me, displaying my momentary glee.
and as i walk back to the car, i find myself singing a little song. about roses and toeses.
goddamnit, i missed all of you so much! i really am an addict. oh well.
to be honest, aside from a vague sense that there was a lot of work to do, i don't even remember the week that well. ah, the joys of medications that destroy your short-term memory. and if you don't remember it it didn't happen, right? *poof* allgone.
the cherry blossoms at school are slowly making way for baby green leaves. i can just barely reach the end of a branch, so i grab it and shake timidly, then harder. the blossoms lose their tenuous grip, and fall, twisting in a mad soft snowpetal dance.
this is the stuff of dreams, and crazy camera angles. the haze of tiny soft circles obscures my vision, and for a fraction of a moment i am in an entirely different place. i am four, eating the snow off of the branches of pine trees. i am five, singing songs about roses and toeses into a tape recorder. i am eight, flying dizzy in a tire swing. i am eleven, in a nest of blankets.
and something very tiny snaps in me, and i am perfectly, completely happy for a just a second. but then the petals ripple away, and i am left alone. during my meeting, i shift in my seat, and petals fall from the crevices in my sleeve. i brush my hand over my hair, and feel soft touches on my cheeks. involuntary souvenirs, clinging to me, displaying my momentary glee.
and as i walk back to the car, i find myself singing a little song. about roses and toeses.
goddamnit, i missed all of you so much! i really am an addict. oh well.
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
lotus:
wow, I'm baby crazy right now too! We can have fake babies together!
rubbersoul:
Welcome back. We're all still here. Please share some of that medication that destroys your short term memory. I could use it. 