You're my living journal
I suppose it's fair to say that as I began whispering my secrets in your earlobes and waking you up in the middle of the night to gift you random thoughts, you became the new storing place of all my brain's overflow. No longer did I nurse bits of folded napkin with scrawled Bic on my nightstand. Sharing my bed, you know my intimacies more deeply than I could ever pen.
Tonight, my insomnia tickles me awake.
Tonight, I let you sleep.
Tonight, I write.
I haven't had much to write about lately and not due to boredom, or every day humdrummery, but perhaps because the weather has caused me to die, some. I have investigated the existence of seasonal blues and while this hasn't been a particularly harsh midwestern Winter, being a Florida girl through-and-through, I think I've got a touch of it. Thankfully, the snow all seems to be melting and I'm sure before I know it, it'll be time for the ice cream vendors to be pushing their coolers down the block.
You know you're unwell when you're starting to daydream about the sun. I have all these cross-processed Kodachrome visions of eating watermelon on my stoop and wind on my legs while riding bicycles and lying in grass and stubborn tan lines.
There's been a lot of randomness abounding in my brain lately and some of it is quite overplayed intermittent annoyances in my life (most regarding rude adjectives and pronouns I hoped to have left in the past) and others are quite overwhelming new circumstances I find myself in every day in my new future. It's not as mysterious and cryptic as that reads.
Ah well, I should crawl back beneath the covers and bury myself for a few hours of hibernation. I anticipate the coming months with bated breath as I crave the glorious sun.
No more photos until I make myself take a camera off the display shelf and create them.
This could be a lengthy spell.
Tonight, my insomnia tickles me awake.
Tonight, I let you sleep.
Tonight, I write.
I haven't had much to write about lately and not due to boredom, or every day humdrummery, but perhaps because the weather has caused me to die, some. I have investigated the existence of seasonal blues and while this hasn't been a particularly harsh midwestern Winter, being a Florida girl through-and-through, I think I've got a touch of it. Thankfully, the snow all seems to be melting and I'm sure before I know it, it'll be time for the ice cream vendors to be pushing their coolers down the block.
You know you're unwell when you're starting to daydream about the sun. I have all these cross-processed Kodachrome visions of eating watermelon on my stoop and wind on my legs while riding bicycles and lying in grass and stubborn tan lines.
There's been a lot of randomness abounding in my brain lately and some of it is quite overplayed intermittent annoyances in my life (most regarding rude adjectives and pronouns I hoped to have left in the past) and others are quite overwhelming new circumstances I find myself in every day in my new future. It's not as mysterious and cryptic as that reads.
Ah well, I should crawl back beneath the covers and bury myself for a few hours of hibernation. I anticipate the coming months with bated breath as I crave the glorious sun.
No more photos until I make myself take a camera off the display shelf and create them.
This could be a lengthy spell.