how to rebuild the walls that someone has knocked down to tell the truth, it's hard enough without a lover who you only want to hide your darkness from so you don't let 'em down" |
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Thursday, Nov. 22, 2007 @ 3:08 am There's a version of this song on the new Ryan Adams EP that fucking slays me. It's 3 in the A.M. & I'm sitting here waiting for my Pumpkin Pies to finish baking (I got adventurous & made them from total scratch ... pumpkin puree & all ... they're vegan, I'm curious how the texture will be without eggs, hopefully not super suck) & I just want to hear it over & over & over again. James & I went down to visit with Rue & did a little record shopping & it was nice to get away for a day, see my Devil & her ever burgeoning bump. She's so fucking cute. I got to feel the baby wiggling around. Weird. I didn't come here to update, I came here to lock up. I got here though & found that I don't really want to lock up. It's just that there are folks reading my diary that live very near to me ... Chico, Red Bluff ... etc. The anonymity has gone & it makes me feel uneasy. I'm guessing that the Chico hits are James at work, maybe ... who knows. Lurkers. Go away. Or leave me a note, or send me an email & explain your lurkage or ... go away. Tofurkey day ... was going to type tomorrow, but I guess it's technically today. So much to be thankful for, so little time. I have a job I love. I have fucking amazing family & friends. My animals are kooky & adorable. My roommate is a genuinely kind soul. I've slipped & fallen into contentment & I may wallow in it a while. It's much more comfortable than self-loathing & endless longing. We've been kicking ass at work lately. Meeting quotas, making plan ... it feels good. I have vivid dreams lately. Long, intense & detail oriented. In one of them I was having coffee with my Grampaw & he kept telling me he had to go & I pleaded for him to wait until I had finished my cup (which I drank slower & slower trying to prolong our visit) & when he finally got up to go I started sobbing so hard that my throat closed up & I woke up gasping for breath. Others like that, but without Grampaw, happen a few times a night. Always people leaving or people I can't reach & there's this strong weight of frustration hanging off of my heart when I wake up. They leave me exhausted & a little hollow. I find myself examining them all through the day, little details like the creases in the corner of someone's eyes when they smile at me, or the rhythm of their steps as they're walking away. Crazy dreams. That's what they are. :blowing my speakers: Ryan Adams ~ If I Am A Stranger (Cardinals version)
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