la v'io seggia d'amor pensoso e scriva
So I finally decided what to be for halloween:
Blinka, the speckled fairy-nymph from the russian quarter of the astral plane!
I have a picture of my friend and I playing dress-up at the exact moment when I discovered my hidden Blinka identity, and it is immensely cute. I will attempt to post this picture, or even make it my new default picture, but I have some doubts concerning my picture-uploading capabilities.
In other news, I have news that I have not told ANYONE and am not sure if I want to but I have to mention it somewhere so that it's real for me. It is news of the life-changing exciting, but also scary breed of news, and no, i'm not pregnant. hmmmm. ooooo i'm being mysterious oooooo.....
but not really. i mean, not really trying to be secretive and mysterious. it's not even for sure yet, just a possibility, and not sure if that's what's right for me right now. in any case, it's my decision.
ack. i'm going to stop being incomprehensible now, and write a poem (are those things mutually exclusive? I hope not)
il tradittor, il tradittor
i seek you out with moonbeams
cradles of generosity, and
and! to never need, or wish
or want. so much, so much
to celebrate, to gather
into small piles, to whisper
eyelashes to, to paint with
scripted backstrokes, and pluck
pluck! the ripened wits of thousands
the wisened winks of summer lappings
and ageless sky. but first we roll,
cat-like in our yogic trance, our
blades and muscle strains, as we
laugh in ingenuity. to search,
to smear, to submerge and laugh and
laugh again; we stretch, we weave,
scatter small piles, whisper in
rounds, ripen our strokes, and then
we seek no more.
Blinka, the speckled fairy-nymph from the russian quarter of the astral plane!
I have a picture of my friend and I playing dress-up at the exact moment when I discovered my hidden Blinka identity, and it is immensely cute. I will attempt to post this picture, or even make it my new default picture, but I have some doubts concerning my picture-uploading capabilities.
In other news, I have news that I have not told ANYONE and am not sure if I want to but I have to mention it somewhere so that it's real for me. It is news of the life-changing exciting, but also scary breed of news, and no, i'm not pregnant. hmmmm. ooooo i'm being mysterious oooooo.....
but not really. i mean, not really trying to be secretive and mysterious. it's not even for sure yet, just a possibility, and not sure if that's what's right for me right now. in any case, it's my decision.
ack. i'm going to stop being incomprehensible now, and write a poem (are those things mutually exclusive? I hope not)
il tradittor, il tradittor
i seek you out with moonbeams
cradles of generosity, and
and! to never need, or wish
or want. so much, so much
to celebrate, to gather
into small piles, to whisper
eyelashes to, to paint with
scripted backstrokes, and pluck
pluck! the ripened wits of thousands
the wisened winks of summer lappings
and ageless sky. but first we roll,
cat-like in our yogic trance, our
blades and muscle strains, as we
laugh in ingenuity. to search,
to smear, to submerge and laugh and
laugh again; we stretch, we weave,
scatter small piles, whisper in
rounds, ripen our strokes, and then
we seek no more.