-What do you want?
-All of you?

Looking at the map

of where I am right now is enough to give me vertigo.

2:24pm

The last half-hour is always the longest.

"Andrea, will my foot ever get better?"

"That's going on 'Word is Bond!'"

Well, now it's here, Angie Baby!

Clearly, back handsprings are a surefire method of recovery. Perhaps Emeline can write her Honors thesis on their miraculous healing powers, akin to holistic therapy. My Honors thesis, meanwhile, will likely be a story that goes on for a long while with something happening here and there, that Kelsey and I will find funny but will only prompt an occasional half-smile out of everyone else. Like, you know, life.

Anna Molly

Fate
or something better
I could care less
Just stay with me for awhile

Things I held sacred/that I dropped

((Clever line, Audioslave.))

I'd forgotten how I enjoyed speaking in a semi-seductive voice over the radio, somehow knowing what song should follow the next. I am always two tracks ahead.

I'd forgotten that I enjoyed portraying someone else, or an extension of myself, for an audience. I like the instant gratification; I love to make you laugh.

Why the heck

am I enjoying myself and not feeling overwhelmed???

Note to self: Add Indiana Jones to list of movies.

Now, if we could get this metatarsal to heal in an efficient manner, then heck, I'd feel unstoppable. :-)

The lights are off in the house. Someone could come out from this silent darkness and nobody would ever hear besides the three of us: Someone, the Raker, and me.

Vulnerable

Is
standing in the
middle of the street,
playing basketball,
four foot five,
with long
girlish locks
blocking your
vision.

1996 Compulsories

"I'd like Gary to say that to me," Brittany muses.

"Say what?" I ask, looking up from painting my nails a Vixen shade of red.

"That he'll always protect me."

Sometimes:

I smile,
nod,
and wonder,
Why the hell
are you
telling
me
this?

It gets hard.

I mean, what the heck do we know, anyway?

Easter Sunday, pondering "fanaticism" a.k.a. "fundamentalism"

Zero degrees Kelvin. The event horizon. +1 + -1 = O.

Nothing.

You know you're a nerd

when you post on WebCT at 1am. And you're not behind on the assignment.

Empathy?

Either way I look at it, I'll never have exactly what I want.

And perhaps we're not supposed to.

I would like to drive fast with the music playing loudly, the lyrics telling me what I should do and feel. And then I would return and write and be applauded.