just a few hours ago, i was drinking beers with my dad and i had everything all together. We decided it was okay to mourn, in our own ways, in our own time.
But just now all hell has broke loose and this whole past year has swallowed me up, and i'm mourning for everything. I'm a mess. I feel like crying for hours and days. There is alot i've left unfinished.
Tomorrow will be better, and i'll wake up feeling sad, but it will be alright. Hope is still hanging around.
Song for Nicodemus
A warning sign
I missed the good part then I realized
I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses
Come on in, I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign
When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so
A warning sign
You came back to haunt me and I realized
That you were an island and I passed you by
When you were an island to discover
Come on in, I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign
And the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
I miss you so
And I’m tired
I should not have let you go
So I crawl back into your open arms...
-"warning sign", by coldplay
Wingaersheek
When I opened the door he was standing there with this beautiful sunny orange flower. Mutual grins, and we took off for Cape Ann to soak in the new june air and get our fill of the ocean, at least for a little while. We ended up in gloucester, and walked along the marshes to Wingaersheek Beach, ( I saw the jeep of my desires along the way) where we promptly shed our shoes and wriggled our toes in the sand. We sat side by side on some hulking saltwater weathered boulders and felt familiar with the horizon and each other, and then we sprinted off for the tide's edge to get windblown and brine soaked, returning to shore glowing and happy and bedraggled. Sandcastle time, and hoarding shells; i told stories about love and tidepools and he explained architecture and heartache to me. Then back to the car, where we found a little culinary nook among the fishermen's taverns and the wharfs and he treated me to cornish hen and wine and chocolate decadence. We returned to the urban lands feeling warm and happy and tinted with the ocean. Then we had tea at midnight.....we all know what tea can do.
Stakka at E
Last night I lured Bryon and Mr. Pearson to the phoe landing for DnB, found it to be just as fabulous as last time. Same kiddoes as last time, playing kung fu and making faces at me, woohoo. Stakka (although minus Skynet) was just the taste i needed, and the boys were totally into it. After a few hours of going ape on the dance floor and gawking at the breakdancing kidz, we spilled out into the cool evening and rolled on home. John babbled about precipitation and syncopation, and Bryon held my hand in the rain.
Next thursday? CERTAINLY.
I could only hope to go on a date this fabulous.
http://www.theonion.com/onion3922/let_smoove_rock.html
Wow, thanks Bryon. Hee hee.
Yeah so, I tried K's tactic and googled my favorite word (SCHNERKIT), and I got, well.......myself.
"When provoked, the Oxy becomes a vicious little creature; hackles rise, ears are laid back, fangs exposed, and the tail stiffens, or is bent into kinks. Often this is enough to prevent a fight; it looks so goddamn funny the opponents usually end up rollicking around in glee."
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