January 5, 2013

• Too many things.

  He knows we are being discussed...keep twitching our ears because we can almost hear it...it's like a gnat, really...
  And it's all interest and anticipation...and irritation at the knowing and horror because what does one even say? And then there is that face, sad and white, and the wishing she had not called me when I was at work after I said I would do all the listening it was possible to do. Of course it wasn't possible when it was needed.

  ...and the light and the darkness and the hint of fangs when those lines come across, and my shaking my head that I ever found that song and the photo of me with the Thwomp for a face and the number of times now that we find each other for the purpose of making marks or just standing together and the sleep I am not getting anymore and the sleep I wish I got and the smell on my clothes and the completely different one on my coat.

  The gift I just sent and the lines I never wrote because now I do not have to and the dog...the little dog.

  Too many.

  I need to talk to K.
  It's stupid how I think that will help me.

  • 5:45 am
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