nothing.

[najy]

I consider split pea soup without ham a miracle.

I wish chickens didn't die for chicken noodle soup and cows didn't die for leather and burgers.

I want my cake and to eat it too.

There is a truth in food. Something you give away in the habit of pieces of the world that you consume.
What is is this sweetness you crave? How many spoonfulls for your coffee? Do you drink it now or wait for it to cool?

If you new nothing of me but a diary of what I ate, you might know my story.

Try this:
3 emergen-c's
2 cups of soup
one bowl of pasta and spinach

Yes, darling, I'm sniffles and coughs. I'm fever and blush. I'm headache and nausea.

i've been listless for days and now my body matches my mood.

Time keeps passing but I don't feel a thing. I fill my days with actions of no lasting consequence:
art shows, music, dancing, museums, dinners, coffee, bike rides.

without creation, I feel that very little has a point. I am jobless, and creatively blocked.

The other day I felt proud to take a few photos, change a tire, and sew a patch.

I feel like there are no words inside me to write exactly what needs to be written. But I also can't draw it.

I need to find a medium to express.

If I could I would sculpt for you a woman of stunning strength and sadness with a tender wrist.

or I'd cook a meal so light and spiced you would tear.

or make a collage that would capture the chaos of love.

but instead I dream, nose runs, and my fingers keep clattering on these silly keys- doing nothing and telling about it.