November 24, 2009

Happy Dogsday

Okay, maybe a day more than a day to recuperate, or just to figure out the wireless Internet at the hotel in Berkeley where my dad and I are staying between holiday meals in the forest and tomorrow's happy reunion whisked off to home. But in the meantime, I am thankful for:
the funny reminiscences, so torturous rattling around inside my head, are so beautiful when someone else is there to rattle them off with me, ramble backwards while talking about futures of glittery shirts and gospel choirs, now
primary colors another memory unto themselves, and so too must be a surprisingly lovely night of dreams to unreal reality, but
old friends popped back up, and in one day and empty text message inbox full to 76 so ready to come home to
(but still the possibility to go other distant places, and still all the possibilities)
my warm bed and comfortable pillows and those stars above me, and
those people who keep me warm, and comfortable, and who see stars in me
new books
kittens and puppies
the oncoming winter smells so crisp and cold and so warm and firey and taking root some place
and the butternut squash that I'll share with my mom from the uneaten produce box we left over this very short break.

But all this seems so somewhere tomorrow, so looking forward to, so dreaming about, while my toes get cold beneath the rosy plastic bedspread where I have spread the one last Chemistry lab I will (hopefully) ever do. And then, who knows?

The doubt


The lime tree accepts what life dishes out in a composed way, hates fighting, stress, and labor, dislikes laziness and idleness, soft and relenting, makes sacrifices for friends, many talents but not tenacious enough to make them blossom, often wailing and complaining, very jealous but loyal.

Better. Better, better. Give me one more day to collect myself, but better I want to be back.

November 18, 2009

We all live in our heads our legs our toes our eyes our throats homes homes homes homes


Mine mind mired in a mess of memories, my dreams are hijacked by old faces doing what old faces once did but don't do anymore, not when I don't see them anymore, and waking up stuck in thoughts that make shower mornings slow and thick in thinking when they should be moving instead feets sits slowly scratching toes on one another while my head whirls ten scratching feets overhead still unable to detach itself from either, "this is a dream and you are here and I am not," or when I see you again and if I see you again I will never let go again if you will never let go again.

November 10, 2009

November 08, 2009

Digital hibernation

I haven't been feeling too Internet-drawn lately, just doing the basic check email, check blogs, check my bank balance, and that's usually when I've checked out at work. Once I get home from a day of classes and world travels in scanning and staring at a computer screen, all I want to do is eat and finish homework and curl up until eight the next morning. But at least I have a camera:













Too much of a slump to type, suffice it to say doing well despite darkening days tinged with nostalgia. I've been missing a lot lately, and I guess my web-avoidance is an attempt to make a little more tolerable my "reminiscences of the day mixed with some memories from the past." I'm looking forward too some sort of return bumbling through this big world, dreaming of certain people and certain places and certain times in my life while acting out adolescently in the dark on the bridge and getting much too wibbly and excited by movies I watched when I was six.

November 02, 2009

Halloweenie








Winding down after a weekend of being wild, pumpkin patching and pumpkin carving and pumpkin seed roasting, free tacos and not-free Thai food, splicers and lots of Maxies but no monsters but nonetheless downtown in the most popular costume, long bus waits, big birthday cardigan-and-steak celebrations and lots of cheesecake, hurtling into another week of entropy.