Where to from here?

Hell if I know.

---

pms pms pms pms pms ugh.

Restless and fidgety but too apathetic to get up and do something. Anything.

I'm just... growly.

---

So the kids are off school until March 7th. Maybe longer - there's a lockout/strike on, starting tomorrow. Both the public school board and the ATA are hoping to have an agreement in place before the kids are scheduled to return. I'm keeping my fingers crossed but not holding my breath. And in my current mood it's probably best if I don't say anything at all.

I love my kids. I adore them, they are my life. March 7th isn't too long from now. Is it?

---

primal

Hormones and the Riemann hypothesis, this is where I am today. I can't decide if I want to fuck or just tell everyone else to fuck off.

It's warm outside. It's warm inside. Both adding to my impatience.

I feel like biting.

...I've been here before.

---

scattered scattered scattered like so much chicken feed.

I scribbled so hard I tore the paper.

"Why yes, Mr. Rorschach, I suppose it does look like a penis. By the way, you're looking nice today."

---

Do puppies always pee this much??

goddamn.

---

I'm avoiding him. Have been avoiding him. For no good reason. It's so simple to make that little green flower appear red to him. Too simple? I want to chat, maybe/maybe not with him but I don't have the patience to come up with a plausible reason for why I haven't been 'online'. Because it would be a lie (obviously) and right now I'm very much about the truth. Go on. Ask me, ask me anything at all - but only if you want to know the honest answer.

"You can't HANDLE the truth!"

---

more later. perhaps.

---

What do you want?

In that darkest part of you, what is it you desire so intensely you've never even realized how tightly it holds you, enfolds you, has grown with hooks into a part of you? Something so selfish you've never spoken about it, out loud, in the daylight? Not even to yourself?

There's always something.

Maybe it forms the foundation of your thoughts, your actions, your whole outer-life existence. Can you even admit it's cause/effect in your inner-life? Are you even aware that it's there? Do you acknowledge it, accept it, deny it, live with it, in spite of/because of it?

Me too.

You show me yours...

---

I re-read your letters. They weren't love letters. We both regret that, don't we? If they had been, if there had been something there, even so subtle, so abstract..

So many years.

You unlocked the door that morning. Why?

I know I asked you to. I know you didn't want to. You must have known I didn't want you to, not really.

Didn't you?

We'd fogged up the windows. It wasn't obvious, not until the sun began to rise. (Much was obvious if we hadn't been so oblivious. Are we still?) But we were young and insane in that desperate way only those pretending adulthood and maturity can ever really be.

I think i cried.

I think you did, too.

"Hush, baby" was all you said.

And I think your tears fell with prescience; mine with the past.

And I don't think today, or any days between, would change a thing.



soundtrack: thud thud thud of a headache.