beneath the words under the book a place where only closed eyes look the thoughts that swim and procreate oh, i prayed and prayed and prayed to catch a glimpse a mockingbird to hear the sound that they heard for miles and miles and miles and miles i can see the sea and clouds above us "oh, my god, deliver us" and the glass that fell from the edge, the shards are hidden in your bed and in your ears and fingertips i plucked the splinters from your lips collected in a glass jar are fireflies from where we were they give me light, oh, i long to give you light

tomorrow my calendar will show me new pandas.
i am currently involved with anything and everything that makes life beautiful.  this semester is exciting me it is making life beautiful.  is that even more possible now?  oh my god.  i lava you.  suddenly my ability to draw things has come back instead of being an ability to scribble slightly or maybe doodle, NAW, i am full out drawing things on paper and proud of it.  i feel so completely out of my mind and inside my mind and in the middle of my mindspace, everything is interesting and someone called me "very inquisitive" today, i am.  i laugh at things that are so funny, i wish i could tell you, people that are so clueless, i wish i could tell you.  feeling accomplished getting past all those terrible violent wrenching wrecking swinging moods.  my hands have swollen for two mornings now, my dreams have not been very interesting for maybe three, here are some pictures

i could write you like a book.  i could fill in all those little spaces that you leave empty.  i could cross out the blanks, i could make more blanks.  you are my novel.  if you asked me i could create whole verbs nouns adjectives just for you.  there are sentences filled with your scent there are pages stained with your fingerprints.  i haven't left a single book on the shelf not a letter in the box.  i have learned the way you look concentrated in the light, i have memorized your eyes and the shades between the shades.  so close the shades.  and come back to bed.  we'll put down the books and they will remain unread.  we will write our own with lips and sweat.  we will write our own with our beautiful happiness.

i wish my room windows were in the right places and the right sizes and that i had a tiny bookcase and a tall lamp and patterned pillowcases and less dust, dirt, and grime.  i wish my curtains reached the floor and were a pale kind of yellow and that in the spring i could leave my window open so the may winds would push them up and everywhere across dark and deep hardwood floors.  there are an infinite number of changes i could make to my room.  sometimes when i wake up, it just seems too unfamiliar.  i am trying to relate it to my mind.

NYAHAHAHANAYHAHAAHHTRDGBHNNNNNNNNNNAYY

is it normal to be this tired?  is it just the rain making me sad?  i've got a heavy heart.  there are things i need to do right now.



biting my lip.
ok.
ok.
ok.
ok.
ok.



i need to relax, i really do.  thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts.
when i was younger, i asked my sister if she ever stopped thinking, if the thoughts in her head ever calmed down.  she told me yes, and i felt so jealous that she could just sit in peace without having to control a mind that couldn't relax.

i'm feeling that way right now.  jealous of someone experiencing peace.



















ok.

everything is a shade of blue today, stand out and wear reds, golds.   mmm think of me as a place.

it's like the devil in me saw the god in you