Just finished the washing up, listening to my favourite baby tape. My ballistic approach to the world of counting (age 2 years 1 month) was to carry me through my life, much in parallel to the way my mastery of the alphabet (barring 'L is for...?' "MOUSE!") was to hint at the direction my life should take.
Ok, verbosity aside, it's well-known I like the sound of my own voice, even when I'm reading it. I miss R already, but remain very much cheered as to future events- we take care of each other well. Him, with the mother of all colds, and me with a kidney infection sending me on loo-missions every 5 mins.
Think parents are finally back. ;) Later.
8:50pm
I want somebody who cares
for me passionately
with every thought
and with every breath
someone who'll help me see things
in a different light
all the things I detest
I will almost like
I don't wanna be tied
to anyone's dreams
I carefuly try to steer clear
of those things
and when I'm alseep
I want somebody
who will put their arms around
and kiss me tenderly
the things like this
make you sick
in a case like this
i'll get away with it...
(I still feel adrift. Cut loose? Not quite; light-house-less. Where and how are you?)
I wind you up
Then I wait here
For the melancholy
I give you up
While you sit here in all your glory...
To make me a disciple
One last round...
Readin' Troll Bridge
Listenin' to Veruca Salt
Thinkin' about how cold my hands are
Most recently I was 
