I allowed myself to fall into a heap on the couch yesterday. Whenever I do that, I ask myself why. There are so many choices: malnourishment, depression, some remnant of celiac, or just a bad habit. As I sit here wondering and trying to find the positive, I feel that the important thing is to get back up and take care of what I can.

Recently, I read somewhere that sites like Twitter and Facebook have a way of siphoning off the will required to make a longer post. I believe it. My posting here tapered off sharply once I started getting into the Facebook groove. I'm not happy about that. There are times where I really need a longer post to get a thought out. Perhaps I should ( Read more... )

(sighs) I have so much to do between now and New Year's Eve. A new relationship is unfolding. New possibilities are coming my way. And all of the above comes with labor and responsibilities. I hope to carry the weight...

...

...with a light heart.

There is an effect that resembles reincarnation. I assure you that it is not. It is more a kind of resonance.

Just finished watching Where the Wild Things Are. No reviews. Just good feelings. ... And claws. Very big claws. It makes it hard to reach out to people when you have very big claws. They keep thinking you're trying to eat them.

There's the initial infatuation of love. That usually lasts a year or two. And then there's the skill of love. That requires two people who can be close enough to stay connected and yet far enough to avoid getting in each other's way. Both partners must constantly renegotiate the relationship. Without that, the relationship either goes stale or ( Read more... )

Waking. Walking. Wondering at the dawn.
Thinking on things to do and time that shall soon be gone.

Sometimes I just feel fake. Not plastic-person fake. More like fake-human fake. It's like I'm a shell covering some immensely alien entity. And if it were to expose itself, I would just crumple up and be tossed aside. It's not a feeling I get very often. But when I do, it's quite disconcerting.

It's a hobby. Helps me get the words out.

Have you ever met yourself? Sometimes I believe I have, in the flesh, when I was young. I probably didn't. Most likely it was only someone claiming to be my brother. Nonetheless, it is unsettling. Tonight, I feel particularly close to things like that. It reads like a sign, like a bend in the pattern directly related to myself.

Time to go with it.