Day: May 9, 2005

sexually tramsmitted


somewhere College west?
Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.

“The only people I know from Sweden are ABBA and Ace of Base. Ace of Base seems like the obvious choice for weapons inspection: they saw the sign.” – marseverlasting

If you thought my room was chaotic before, then you’ve never seen it during a baby storm. I’m surprised at how many basic coloured chunks of plastic it’s possible to find in my room. There’s building blocks, a lite-brite, and apparently a bazillion markers. My floor is a mine-field of markers, though for some reason she very carefully put every unused lite-brite peg back in the container and tightly closed the lid. It was mysterious. I feel my brain becoming as tangled as old christmas lights when I try to peer inside her brain. Somehow she’s not half as sweet to understand as Sam was in Toronto. I would have thought having a vocabulary, no matter how simple, would inbue the body with more personality, but I seem to be wrong. Naomi calls me mummy. It makes me uncomfortable. The thought of having one of these of my own sets my heart cold. I’m too young for this.

  • Seattle blanketed with wireless internet, thinks warm fuzzy thoughts.
  • New species of fox discovered in Borneo, furries rejoice.
  • 8 year old girl tortured for being a witch, dispels myth of merry old england yet again.

    • It may be time to kiss the stone what brought me here again.

  • food daleks.
  • shatner in the sky with diamonds
  • limerick dictionary
  • expressionless girl

  • There’s no playing little sister tomorrow. The woman across the hall has offered a trade, baby-sitting for food. Suckle these damned mouths for something for your own. I can do it. Right now it’s worth it and I don’t think it will interfere with any plans. I’m not due anywhere until 8pm as far as I can remember, though I have a bad habit of forgetting appointments unless I write them down. My life has reached a pretty point regarding that, however, one I’ve only recently re-coalesced properly. Not only are people realizing that unexpected drop-ins are welcome, they’re also keeping track of who has my time for me, as I currently lack a paper calender and sleep too little to hold any sort of memory inside of my head. I want Google in my brain, where I can get it always. My skull, the sieve.

    My patterns of unconsciousness have been strange since returning from Toronto. Someone mentioned I’m on European time, eight and half hours out of synch with where I need to be. All I know is that I wake too early and dream too late. That love is absent and wondering what to do with itself.

    I was broken once, I got better. I healed my broken psyche bones into an adequate formation and I found some peace and some comfort, but then I learned how to smile and I shamed it all with that. Smashed all the walls down and re-built them into colourful mosaics. Every single moment blew into oblivion because I liked who I grew to be in spite of it, maybe because of it. I may be a lot of things, but I’m hardly vacuous. The way I feel lately, I’m honestly wondering if I’ve just shifted everything again. Elaborate girderwork becoming more streamlined and less clumsy, as how the old rail bridges dropped in complexity as knowledge was added to newer engineering. My heart pounds randomly, skipping beats at the mere mention of what exactly? I don’t know what’s upstream inside of me, but I haven’t been crying lately. I miss Matthew, but I’m not scared of it. There’s no severe jabbing pain walking as my companion anymore. My loneliness is finally cradled in This Was the Right Thing To Do.