A bunch of things that might not matter after all
07/11/2008 02:56 p.m.

I love a cool breeze across my face.

I love the cricket symphony in the summer.

I love the smell of my bedroom in the early morning
When the incense burns crisp and clean.

I love a good road trip,
And especially staying in a hotel.

The roar of the ocean rushing to shore calms me,
Barefoot in the sand and I’m a happy girl.

All sorts of harmonies are beautiful.

I love that empty feeling in my stomach
When I haven’t eaten for a day.

I want to speak with the dolphins,
Hear the history of the whales first hand.

I love my rosey cheeks, especially in the winter.

Floating in water is the closest I think
I’ll ever come to flying.

I love cotton candy,
Riding the scariest rides and living to tell.

I hear symphonies in my head
That I’m not talented enough to write.

I don’t know how to repair the broken bonds
With my children.

I’m not afraid to die
Sometimes I’m even cowardly/bereft enough
To wish for it.

I wish I had enough money to fix my teeth.

I can’t endure the suffering of other creatures.

I never imagined that rage would be one of my expressions.

I have Flinstone feet.
My baby shoes look like boxes, and these days
You could power a prehistoric vehicle with those puppies!

Sometimes I feel larger than life,
And then I remember that it’s not all about me,
Which helps to shrink me back to normal.

I love eating the very bottom of a Drumstick ice cream cones.

I really like being stoned
But only when all my responsibilities
Have been sufficiently handled.

I love to sing.

I still feel nurtured when I have
My own box of animal crackers.

I like my breasts.

My favorite candy in the whole world
Is See's Dark Bordeaux.

I love being able to give gifts to others,
Especially people I don’t know
And people who don't expect it from me.

I love my flying dreams.

I miss getting backrubs.

I wish I knew how to draw and paint.

I can't wait to find out what happens
After I'm done with this body.

I love the allure of the spirit realm from
A physical point of view.

Having an orgasm is the most decadent joy, ever.

I want my body to be cremated after I leave it.

Making a snow angel is a yearly must.

I’m still baby happy after all these years.

I feel as though I must have failed my mission,
Even though I never did discover what it was.

I believe in God, but lately I can’t seem to find that connection anymore.

I didn’t say any of this to be consoled or encouraged.
I just wanted it said altogether
One time,
In one place.
Not that I have any evidence any of this matters to anyone.


I am currently Passionate
I am listening to all sorts of different harmonies