as I said goodbye to Ben, there was a high pitched trill going on..too smoothly continuous to be crickets, but I assumed it was at first, and oddly enough, I found it almost as comforting as rain. It felt like home instead of loneliness or empty-chest-music.

Long long ago, when the sky was young and dry, he had many sons, all stones. The stones could see the curve of the earth, curled sweetly upon herself. They loved her dearly and sang long soft songs to try stroke her horizons. But they stretched their voices too far, too taut and they pulled themselves to the ground. All they could see were each ( Read more... )

yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

schoof

I always see the little blinking airport light out of the corner of my eye and think it's a kitten scratching its ear

either you hide under the blankets so you can sleep or you stay and let it melt?

books! they drive me mad! and every breath tastes of words as liquid and tricky as vanilla and each bottled word I breath weighs down my tongue in continued silence until the weight builds in my throat and I cough or yawn, reminding myself I really must stop and sleep

...and the light cord swings and I remember fish...

lalala
singing in sick voice whee!
my roommate sounds pretty sick too. phooey.

grumblemutterwhinewhingehmph

I wanna hang out with Kate and Laura

hmph

instead of roads we shall install little tracks in which we will roll tomatoes and we will ride giant tortoises as they try to eat the tomatoes. Tortoises are cute when they try to eat tomatoes.