i need focus.  I need to be able to pinpoint exactly what I want to say.  I need to realize that no matter how hard I try I will never be able to single it out I will never be able to pull scrape drag rip out of my head heart soul what it is I want to say.  The words exist…or do they?  I don’t really know.  I just want to write and write and write without stopping and see what happens.  I don’t know how I feel about being home.  I think cell phones are pretty is what she said to me today.  Paula went to Greece and Italy and she came to see me at pcj.  it’d been a year and a half.  I feel disconnected with my home.  i like home.  I miss home. 

 

I want to bike. 

 

I used to question to ramble to rant to vent to talk and talk and talk four hours at a time.  Ya know, I’m not sure if anyone ever really listened to me….or just enjoyed the fact that I was just there…on the other side.  Just there.  Yeah so its nice to be there, eh?  To have someone there.  To be that someone for someone else.  I didn’t mind.  but now…looking back….i think I learned to stop listening to myself.  I told carlie way back when that people should take their own advice.  Because 99.9% of the time, people give the advice that they need to hear in return.  I know I do. 

 

Everything I tell everyone else is something they already know.  That applies to just about everyone and everything, eh?  Well seems to me we live in a stuck up world with stubborn know it alls.  I am one of them.

 

I remember when I used to pee with the door open.  I remember when I never locked the doors and looked forward to sneaking into the shower with my mom.  i also remember my first shower, alone.  Somewhere along the lines, I hit puberty and started to long for privacy.  I shut, locked, and scowled angrily when my mom asked for permission to come in to get the windex from underneath the sink.  Knock.  Knock. 

 

I once stole all the keys and hid them.  I still don’t remember where I put them.

  

I want…..well I realize…that everything I say is i.  I.  i. I.  i prefer my other language where referring to myself makes me feel inferior to others.  Because that’s ok.  Or better yet….i prefer to just not use words.

 

If eyes speak louder than words, what do the blind say?

 

If I spoke louder than you, what would you say?

 

Would you say that I am tired of being blind?

 

 

Note:  i am not sad.  introspective does not = sad.  call it a pet peeve.