(no subject)
funny, we never talk, and i doubt you read here very often, but i just saw a picture and it reminded me of you. it was the eyes. sweetness looking out of dark, all that love and hurt and strength....cliche things, but it remains. as far as physical features go, your nose and eyes were two of my favorites. i, for one, regret things that were not but it's a very selfish thing so i can only laugh. wonder. you couldn't have kept me anyway. you were much too sweet.
***
i can't believe how beautiful my nearly all grown up pup is. still. i wish i hadn't had to work so much when he was small. y'do the best you can. he's an excellent dog regardless.
***
i climbed the maple tree yesterday. i chased the dogs around the yard, earning a hole in the knee of my jeans. first one in years. proud. went to XXX with my dad and his girlfriend, had a malt, saw a Rolls Royce from the sixties. unlikely lady driving it. my truck caught on fire, like i might or might not have said. i need a new rear brake cylinder, and master cylinder. welllp, no money so it'll have to wait. til then i'll hope not to die. it only caught fire because i hit a pothole or something, which jostled something else into a stuck position. fine now, no different from when i got the thing. this morning i watched brokeback mountain, because it was on. i stayed up late last night. no reason. that movie is a sad way to start the morning. a neighbor approached me and asked about my pending service. said he was in the jungles as a paratrooper, in vietnam. things i didn't know.
...
have a poem, a nearly random pick. by Emily Dickinson
One need not a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.
Far safer, of a midnight meeting
External ghost,
Than an interior confronting
That whiter host.
Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
The stones achase,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
In lonesome place.
Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror's least.
The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolds the door,
O'erlooking a superior spectre
More near.
***
i have so much sewing to do. how annoying. and i forgot my carpet thread in everett. (best stuff for leather jackets)
***
haha, i think i have either frightened off or pissed of a friend or two. no one loves me *cries* but maybe they're just busy.
sugar is wonderful. and honey. and cinnamon. i like cinnamon honey. i like big sugar and molasses. i like honey and molasses, particularly on pancakes and french toast. wish i could go to beth's cafe.
i don't think my glasses are working for me. my eyes are constantly tired. maybe it's all the allergens i've encountered lately, particularly the cigarette smoke. nmm. eyes fall out.
***
i can't believe how beautiful my nearly all grown up pup is. still. i wish i hadn't had to work so much when he was small. y'do the best you can. he's an excellent dog regardless.
***
i climbed the maple tree yesterday. i chased the dogs around the yard, earning a hole in the knee of my jeans. first one in years. proud. went to XXX with my dad and his girlfriend, had a malt, saw a Rolls Royce from the sixties. unlikely lady driving it. my truck caught on fire, like i might or might not have said. i need a new rear brake cylinder, and master cylinder. welllp, no money so it'll have to wait. til then i'll hope not to die. it only caught fire because i hit a pothole or something, which jostled something else into a stuck position. fine now, no different from when i got the thing. this morning i watched brokeback mountain, because it was on. i stayed up late last night. no reason. that movie is a sad way to start the morning. a neighbor approached me and asked about my pending service. said he was in the jungles as a paratrooper, in vietnam. things i didn't know.
...
have a poem, a nearly random pick. by Emily Dickinson
One need not a chamber to be haunted,
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.
Far safer, of a midnight meeting
External ghost,
Than an interior confronting
That whiter host.
Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
The stones achase,
Than, moonless, one's own self encounter
In lonesome place.
Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
Should startle most;
Assassin, hid in our apartment,
Be horror's least.
The prudent carries a revolver,
He bolds the door,
O'erlooking a superior spectre
More near.
***
i have so much sewing to do. how annoying. and i forgot my carpet thread in everett. (best stuff for leather jackets)
***
haha, i think i have either frightened off or pissed of a friend or two. no one loves me *cries* but maybe they're just busy.
sugar is wonderful. and honey. and cinnamon. i like cinnamon honey. i like big sugar and molasses. i like honey and molasses, particularly on pancakes and french toast. wish i could go to beth's cafe.
i don't think my glasses are working for me. my eyes are constantly tired. maybe it's all the allergens i've encountered lately, particularly the cigarette smoke. nmm. eyes fall out.