2005-10-25
Sound Bullets
It's funny the way time and life slips by you. You don't have to be doing anything markedly "good"-- just the living and the breathing and the rising and the falling takes a lot of time and a lot of energy. Sometimes it takes too much.
Ahh, ahh, Emo. Shoot me now. But it's true.
I'm in love with a pair of boots. Screw boys, this is it-- I'll devote my life to shoes and the acquisition thereof. I'm pretty sure that's not how you spell "acquisition" but it's probably close enough.
Silly little things are sending me into tailspins. I'll see a clip of a tv-show, or pick up something that my hand recognizes and I'm gone. Sounds are what I remember most. I'll end up staring at the wall, the chalkboard, the floor in the middle of the hall with these sound-bullets screaming and echoing around me. Some years I forget more than others but it is always, always under my skin.
So I bought a scale yesterday. Yay. It's complicated and fun enough that I don't mind using it. A sense of purpose is most needed and I'm sure the horrid device will be well used, if not loved.
I can usually make it through at least half the day without crying. What is wrong with me?
Good things: Scale. Boots. Propelling anger. God. Wearing a skirt.
Bad things: Low marks. Drinking. Being sad. Sound bullets. Panic. This horrible lay-out.
suzza at 9:09 a.m.