tryin' to make sense, and chocolate candy canes
i don't bring my cd collection home with me (ha), or even some cds. i was never that comfortable toting cds around; i'm not sure why. so what i have at home right now are mix tapes that are all about being a high school dork and the combined vinyl collection of my sister's jazz, my dad's chamber music and scary disco, and my "weird-o indie stuff." i'm happy, i think. i wear crepe-looking dresses and my sister reaches out to feel my hipbones, make sure i'm eating enough ("you are always so sharp to hug!" etc.). lucky makes me feel good, i can't explain that really. she is so much to me. mhm.
we dance around in dim parents' rooms, twirl to louis armstrong's honey rasp. i love this. it makes me even put on my shoes. and i will.
coffee is good.
i'm going to bake and bake and decorate and string things and light candles and throw snowballs and visit the public market in my winter coat and mittens. maybe my friends don't love me anymore; i don't know, afraid to find out. we'll see, we'll see. i wrote a few poems last night, but i can never tell what matters. i do know i'm still not good enough, but somehow when i'm home in front of fire listening to public radio and eating homeade soup it seems alright. call me weak.
and i've been doing a lot of conscious thinking the past couple days. i don't know yet what exactly will come of it, though.
my sister has a boyfriend...his initials are j.w. (wink), and he's a musician. he also happens to be chelsea's favorite boy in the world, which is amazing somehow to me. she could not have picked a better boy.
i'm going to miss her so when she leaves for italy in the spring. g'ah.
i love you, and wish you'd jump on aim or icq at a more godly hour. ; ) but hopefully, it means you are keeping busy and content. good! --i love you.
we dance around in dim parents' rooms, twirl to louis armstrong's honey rasp. i love this. it makes me even put on my shoes. and i will.
coffee is good.
i'm going to bake and bake and decorate and string things and light candles and throw snowballs and visit the public market in my winter coat and mittens. maybe my friends don't love me anymore; i don't know, afraid to find out. we'll see, we'll see. i wrote a few poems last night, but i can never tell what matters. i do know i'm still not good enough, but somehow when i'm home in front of fire listening to public radio and eating homeade soup it seems alright. call me weak.
and i've been doing a lot of conscious thinking the past couple days. i don't know yet what exactly will come of it, though.
my sister has a boyfriend...his initials are j.w. (wink), and he's a musician. he also happens to be chelsea's favorite boy in the world, which is amazing somehow to me. she could not have picked a better boy.
i'm going to miss her so when she leaves for italy in the spring. g'ah.
i love you, and wish you'd jump on aim or icq at a more godly hour. ; ) but hopefully, it means you are keeping busy and content. good! --i love you.