This is bound to be a rambling entry with additional bits of non sequiturs tagged on, so please feel free to disregard and move along.

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All this recent talk of broken to broken and wound for wound has me reeling. I think I'm retreating again but I don't want to. I don't know how to stop it, though.

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The wind has been blowing hard for days. We forgot to close the umbrella from the centre of the patio table; one particularly large gust later, the umbrella was up and gone into the alleyway, destroying the glass-top table in it's flight.

I'm still sweeping up the tiny fragments of glass. Sometimes things are so shattered, they're beyond repair. And that makes me queasy.

I need to stop seeing mirrors everywhere.

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I love Charlie Brown. I love Charlie Brown because he adores the little red-haired girl.

I wish I was the little red-haired girl - anyone's little red-haired girl. But my mailbox is empty, so I know I'm not her.

Hi, I'm Darwin. I'm 12 today, it seems.

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love." - Charlie Brown

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more later.

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[...]Seen a young girl in a parkin' lot
preaching to a crowd,
singing sacred songs
and reading from the Bible.
Well, I told her I was lost
and she told all about the Pentecost,
I seen that girl as the road to my survival.

Just later on
the very same night
she crept to my tent with a flashlight
and my long years of innocence ended:
well, she took me to the woods,
sayin' "Here comes something, and it feels so good!",
and just like a dog I was befriended, I was befriended.

Oh what a night,
oh what a garden of delight ...
Even now that sweet memory lingers:
I was playing my guitar
lyin' underneath the stars
just thankin' the Lord
for my fingers,
for my fingers ...

-Paul Simon "Duncan"

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It's not "what are you doing?" but "what should you be doing?"

Fuck. I don't know. Not this?

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more later.

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And I burned the chicken. Shake'n'Bake, for cryin' out loud.. how did I manage to fuck that up? I'm like the antiMarthaStewart lately.

jesus. The dogs won't even go near some of the food I've managed to mangle.

KD, anyone?

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I was having more fun when I was drunk.

I'm just going to sit here with a blanket over my head and pout for a while.

Just as soon as I find my Journey's Greatest Hits cd.

..you know, to continue on with this angst thing I got going on. *rolls eyes*

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you guessed it - more later. I'm sadly not kidding.

I told you, move along.

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Ok. My night has improved, if only because it turns out I'm not the only one who drunk-emails.

heh.

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I need to take a break from reading.. my eyes are starting to bother me. I squint even when I don't need to.

Or I need new glasses. blah. I hate new glasses. They give me migraines for the first week or so.

I don't mind squinting so much, I guess.





soundtrack: Paul Simon - "Slip Slidin' Away"