shrubbery

i get tired of me sometimes. i say all the same things over and over, which is very repetitive and i bore myself. and also: i freeze up and flip out at the wrong times, and forget to do my [lots of] homework in the daytime.
and i have too much voice, and not enough voice, and im getting a cold, i think maybe. i wrote an editorial, [but im still a smidgin worried about it].
all the same:
that sounds like something i dont need to hear. how about you give me your opinion about some shrubs i plan on planting along the driveway?
and i need a poem in my head. and maybe a novel or something too. and i want it to be genius.
and even though--even though!--all of that, i think i might finally be getting comfortable with me in my own skin. not every day, or every minute, but sometimes, like once every 10 minutes. and sometimes even every 5 minutes or so. and thats good enough for right now. things are good. crazy, weird, strange and scary. but alright. and alright's alright. and im ok with that.
and ill take any hugs available. ive been in a hugish mood lately, for who even knows why.

currently reading: the things they carried

Posted 11/30/2005 4:17 AM