Thursday, June 8, 2006

I don’t want my mind to bother. I hadn’t listened to music in a while, and I do now. Suddenly it makes me move, makes my eyes soft and I wish for everything to beautiful. The things my mind sees as dark, to go away. My passion trodden on. Yet my anxiety declined to a blissful breeze. One’s you feel up your skirt, behind your ears. Which one do I choose?

God the sun was deep in me today. I could only stand it for an hour, before my wintry acclimated skin could no longer take it. I was reading, forcing my body to get used to summer again.

I want to be able to touch the map on my wall and go there instantly.

The high desert at sunset, the seaside hot and salty, the woods after summer rain; those places are me, what I am made of. Cracked concrete, need.

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