x3.

3.

around and around and around and around

There's never an end to it. I can't ever stop thinking; about life, about people, about art, about relationships-I even find myself thinking about thinking. I have such high expectations for everything, for myself-yet I really have no goals.

Dreams.

Sometimes I have the strangest dreams, of people I haven't seen for years and years, or people I don't even know. Lately I've had a lot of dreams of sitting atop highway overpasses, signs and telephone poles, just holding a sign. I don't know what the sign says, and I'm just sitting there, afraid to fall.

I have a strange fascination with things that are also other things, things that aren't what they seem, things that morph and change, things that have characteristics of things they shouldn't.

I often start to shake violently for no reason, and I really don't know why.

Packrat.

I keep too many things; random things, little things I don't need. It's as if I'm afraid that if I don't keep every little ticket stub, token or momento I'll forget everything. The scariest thing for me is when I remember something I had completely forgotten. It just makes me wonder what else I've forgotten that I may never remember.

So where do I want to be?

Every day people live and go about their lives, whether or not I'm in it.

So many random, interesting, crazy things happened tonight; they wouldn't have happened to me had I been at home. Though they still would have happened.

Hotel.

I love working in a hotel. It's strange, but I get to see these little bits and pieces of another persons everyday life, which excites me. As if I could live vicariously through these people by changing their dirty sheets and old soap.

turn back now, while you're still ahead.

Sometimes you just can't turn back. Everyone has that point in their lives-you've seen too much, and you just can't return to what you once were and be satisfied.

I want to be both Bonnie and Clyde.

I want to remember everything and everyone. Why do I leave so many interesting people behind?

When I walk down the street, the first thing I think about when I see someone is: "what are you doing for dinner tonight?" I'm not sure why, I've just always wondered that about people. Everyone has to eat, and it's usually an intimate detail of a life-something you don't usually share with the world, but you know most other people are doing it too. Today, I got to sit and watch my neighbors have dinner. I sat in my window with the lights off, and just watched them eat. I still feel creepy about it.

The world is so much more beautiful in the rain. Everything just looks better wet. The bricks, the leaves, the sidewalk, houses-they all look brighter and richer against the grey sky.

ANTS.

If I could be anything in the world, I would be a dandelion puff. It may be a short life, but just imagine how much you'd get to see. Would I die by drowning in the ocean, or by getting pulled apart by the jet of an airplane?

My kitten can play the piano.

Wednesday.

Wednesday. Nothing interesting ever happens on a Wednesday. It's the blandest day of the week, void of both the dread of Monday and the excitement of Friday. It's the middle child; overlooked and forgotten. Really, do you know anyone who's favorite day is a Wednesday?

I wore lipstick today, hoping I could spice the day up. It all came off on my coffee cup, all before nine. The people here all walk around in the dark. It's always dark. Right now my fingers all have these little lights in them, they're distracting me with their twinkling, but no one else seems to notice them.