Mood: Questionable
Listening to: beep beeping.
Reading: teresa of avila: the book of my life.
Eating: watermelon.
Drinking: coffee.


i'm currently involved in a love affair with rachmaninoff and orthoepy. i've been telling people how much i miss them, even though they're right in front of me, but they don't understand what i mean. i miss their questions and their searches and their open territories. they're just bodies now, no hearts. so i'm carving watermelon hearts for them. juicy hearts. last week i was supposed to spend lots of time with others and i canceled everything and hid under the covers for 3 days instead. i've come out of my blanket fort since then, but i still feel the same. it's kind of like when you're a kid and your mom and dad are screaming at each other and you convince yourself that if you hide in your closet with your favourite stuffed animal and a couple fairies for a long enough time, the storm will disappear and be completely erased from your memory when you come back out. but it doesn't work that way. you might have a helmet on, but the war's still going on. i'm going to make a new home in a mushroom. or maybe a pear tree. a few nights ago my recurring childhood dream came back to haunt me and i think that's what sent me into the whirlpool. and last week i was at someone's house and we talked till 3 am and i discovered something about myself that's made me rather vulnerable these days. like a landmine. or maybe an ant. balancing act. somedays i really really want to be a nun even though i'm not big on the religious beliefs that are required of you to enter, but i figure i could fake it. i'm just a bit stuck in the mud. and right now, absolute silence would be marvelous. a few days where everyone stops calling and stops demanding and stops giving gifts of pressurepressurepressure. it's strange, you can unplug the phone and lock the door but somehow they're still with you. because you know they could reach you if they really wanted to. it's the threat of invasion i guess that feels so pressing. time to phone marion woodman.



back to heart creation.