The conflicting emotions must be cancelling each other out; excitement v. nervousness, thrill v. anger, depression v. satisfaction. At this moment I couldn't define one feeling I'm experiencing solely.

Busy moving. Closing my life as object into boxes and sealing it with brown packing tape. Labelled with black marker "fragile" "this way up" "linens" "bedroom". So much of it tchochkes.. kibble.. stuff.. crap. Nothing like a weighty box to prove just how much junk one thinks one needs. 4 cartons later, the needs become more streamlined and the waste basket starts to overflow.

My back aches and my left ankle has swollen. Again. I'm old to need to express my physical ailments. Never aware of your body until something is wrong with it. Or during orgasm. The ratio between the two is slightly disproportionate. Pity.

This is so disjointed. I cannot seem to focus on one main idea for more than a moment or two. I'll blame it on the lack of sleep but between us, it's really my deviant imagination that keeps interfering. I've developed a crush on a boy that I'm not even sure knows I exist. I like it this way.

.dar.


soundtrack: Andreus Forte - "Scarborough Fair"