my other life
i definitely shouldn’t be awake but since it’s summer i’m-a try to should all over myself less. keep it clean.
frame: lately, i’ve been conjecturing that maybe the person i’ll end up with, or marry, if that said person exists–i’m, sometimes proudly, not a person of faith–is on my friendster. i imagine there’s a 47% chance, or something ;), that they are.
i’ve also been wondering how guarded to be with my blog, because they people i know who’ve read it look at me differently than they did before…but i sort of like that, and dug convinced me this weekend that there is no game to be played. i’ll just do what fills right, and the gold will collect in my sieve.
if my future someone is on here, i like the idea of being vulnerable, because my deeper self constitutes the potential for longest love. i don’t really believe that love and compatibilty can last together, despite the great tree metaphor that artemis told me (two trees standing next to each other each growing at their own pace–i added that maybe their leaves brushed in the wind), but love lasts. you could see it in my eyes
for instance, in my nyc hullaballo i made plans with bunches of people to chill today/tonight. but the plans were still, and i didn’t want to keep calling peeps on the phone with new incantations of this evolution. but the night, and who did come out, made it sweeet.
it’s a red sky at night. can the sailers tell if it’ll be gone in three hours?
ooooooo i’m not awake. i’ve fallen asleep thrice writing this. it’s 4:03am eastern standard and i rise at 7:47. get me a ticket for an aeroplane, chaka khan
a daunting try in limelight. i often fall asleep with people who are speaking to me if i’m lying down even if it’s over the phone. but……..the subject of this blog refers to fantasy. as i graduate and possibilities arise, i live in fantasy. everyone i could be with i’ve been with. any job i could do or goal i could set i’ve done. y’all might not have been there when it happeneD in the future but, my past is yet to be. it’s glorious
back to the sleep i haven’t started. short and disconcerting and even. the rested theater signs seem to cut through any crowd, without leaving a mark. i know this overture
