My hair is wet and unbrushed, but my glasses are on.

[um_coeur]

I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by paint and old journals, and I opened up to a page with a quote from Henry Miller scribbled on it in yellow and pink watercolors...

No man would set a word down on paper if he had the courage to live out what he believed in.

I've been really quiet lately. I have been hanging out with Katie so much that I am surprised she is not sick of me. I have been painting every day and shaving my legs more often than usual. I have not been holding my breath. I sit on the porch surrounded by thick southern air with my feet on the white beams that hold up the porch roof and I laugh loud and deep and listen to this Canadian boy. I sleep in strangers' beds innocently and leave when ignored. I go swimming in pools that belong to apartment complexes that I don't live in, and sometimes don't know anyone who lives in them. I never swim alone, as the signs advise. I am lonely and chronically disinterested. I'm getting ready for an alternative craft fair. I don't have any money. I might get paid tomorrow, when Kerry is sixteen years old. I gave all of my money to Katie, who bought me a watermelon milkshake and salad and burnt cornbread muffins. Boys are cranky. I miss kissing you.