Woke today to tight muscles screaming me from sleep. Unconcious curling into the pain. Make it Stop! Too much walking, I suppose. Too much on too little. Not really eating, not really sleeping. Fuel and rest escaping the radar. Stepping delicately over my trip-wires to glance nonchalant back over thier shoulder as soon as I’ve realized they’re too far gone. Damned green-tinted bastards. Tonight is Illuminaires! I must recover. I suppose it’s almost lucky that today is a stuck sitting day. Working the chat room. Heat calling for cream linen with it’s sweaty voice streaming in with the sun from the window. This skirt is too short to leave the house in. My skin is prickling already and it’s another hour until the sky bakes clean blue in the kiln.<\/p>\n
I don’t know who is coming over this evening, but I expect two of three to arrive. Ethan’s been talking of making lanterns. I sincerly hope he finds supplies. I would love to make<\/b> something today. Actually take these hands and let them Be. Framework pasted with tinted paper. Also small, not a quick toss-off heart this year, but perhaps flame. Make fire. Swerving panels curling upwards. Idealized and scarlet tongued two hands high.
\n I should call Jaques and see if there’s to be a blanket this year. Leslie and Monica and the rest of the older folk. It would be nice to see David. If I see Angela, I may take her up on the offer of being on the board of the Historical Society. I still feel too young, but not so much now I’m living in such shadow. Jaques’ my tie now that Bill won’t talk to me. French flavoured ribbon tying me to so many people. Almost family I never see except by chance. I have to remember also to find out when Fringe is this year. He’ll be on the board and I want the End Party details.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Woke today to tight muscles screaming me from sleep. Unconcious curling into the pain. Make it Stop! Too much walking, I suppose. Too much on too little. Not really eating, not really sleeping. Fuel and rest escaping the radar. Stepping delicately over my trip-wires to glance nonchalant back over thier shoulder as soon as I’ve … Continue reading “My fish is as listless as I am.”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-684","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/684","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=684"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/684\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=684"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=684"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foxtongue.com\/dreampepper\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=684"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}