Your palms are swollen. I will never love you. Now. JUMP.

about three months ago I sat here. Typing up a ridiculous paper on Sweeney Todd. I noticed while I was typing that the veins in my hands were very noticeable. I don't like to notice my veins. this means my hands were swollen....they are swollen in the exact same way....again. as are my feet...and ankles. ew.

But really mattandkim are an inspiration to write. Some days i wish i had the nerve to strip down to nothing in public. and not be viewed as whore, but really viewed as artistic. That'll never happen, but that's what I wish most days.

I like dancing. in the dark. in the light. in the shower. in the nude. in the middle of betty drive while it's dark, with a flashlight, while it rains, in the nude. but not really...only partially....ok a bathrobe.

what about change? i hate it. Who doesn't? don't lie. I mean of course change is good most of the time, but being pushed out of one's comfort zone is never fun. (that's why they call it a "comfort zone"....um.duh.) I dislike smelling as if a coffee grinder just exploded on me, but at the same time I am going to really and truly miss the syrup splatters that are on my barista wall, yes, the ones that shouldn't be there. I hate it, but i'm excited. I hate leaving my family, friends, and enemies ('cause admit it, they are fun to dislike.....just admit it). I will miss the annoying couples...the coworkers I can officially call friends and the other people who will be moving further away. It hurts to think about it all. And if I weren't listening to such techno-pop-move music I could cry. but enough about me.....even though I am one of my favorite subjects. ok one more thing. I hope my fish can come with me. that would make things easier......or so I am telling myself.

I have decided to try not to rant for a little while....which probably won't last long, but I will try.

the idea of furry monsters makes me smile. Like "hungry" or "the wild things". i would like to be friends with them. I would like to run around like a crazy, artsy sort of person, but that just doesn't seem to fit me. I wish I fit somewhere perfectly. Actually I do, but it isn't any sort of a stereotype (unless you can think of one, please lay it on me...I'm not saying I am too good for a stereotype, I'm just saying I haven't found one yet). I sit perfectly in His hands....and I'm overjoyed by the fact that He won't drop me, He won't change. I hope I don't forget this feeling. This state of mind. This part of me. that would be the biggest tragedy. I know why I am here. I know the meaning of my existence. but I doing a horribly sloppy job of it.

Let me take you on a walk. One that will make you happy and sad and irritated. it is a walk through trees. the kind with leaves an roots. It's a walk in misty weather....where it is light until the moon takes over. It is the kind of walk that you realize how small you are. The kind that makes you feel insignificant in the grand plan. It is the kind of walk where you realize why things happen, such as death, birth, and dreams. It is the walk that you find out that you will never accomplish everything you want to. It is the kind of walk that makes you want to run so fast that you collapse in to a heap of heaving tearful sobs. The kind of walk that makes you pick yourself up and shake yourself for being so silly, small, and selfish. Keep walking. Because it makes you feel good. worthless. life-changing. partially alive. and isn't that what we hope to find? Life? I've found it. I have. I want to stay in this place. this forest. this wood. this walk.


I quit.

my apologies for leading you on.