Sunday, March 28, 2010

indian winter. &c. &c. the utter lack of fire.

good night empty house.
i really love you.
when i can go out too late and come back and play cassette tapes as loud or as soft as i want.
no questions asked. the same song on repeat. the same album on repeat. paper walls.

when i impulse bake.
when i walk around half naked.
when the floor disappears.
when i talk to myself and speak less than one hundred words in a day. (so unfamiliar that i offend people when i am in social situations. sorry, nikki, sorry.)
i don't dance and sing nearly enough.
mourn for whatever celebrate whatever,,,,, pulling my eyebrows out in broad daylight and conquering our shared bedroom with collage cut-and-paste and library finds.
at three in the tomorrow the light is on and i haven't finished my homework because i've been out living in suspended nothing and dustbunnies.
our joy-less college apartment, the shared spaces sterile except for mud in the kitchen and floursugarcocoapowder in the bathroom.
if time never passes i never feel guilty. if melodrama was an ingredient i would be tablespooning it in to my cake batter and banana bread. stella adler has nothing to teach me, it's all in my head.
the swimming pool was too cold. so i won't be able to breathe on monday, when i'm there for the first time in two.5 weeks. think of the damage.
i think i've accomplished a lot with my two weeks. well, i've done a lot. accomplished little, depends what angle you take. not a lot of school work. just a lot.

spring break ends tomorrowtoday.
good bye empty house.

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