If there was a better way to go...

...then it would find me

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scratches the itch, but finds scant satisfaction. it was pointless, not the least bit enjoyable, and moreover, destructive.

I have had a couple weeks worth of self reflection now, this whole picking up injured sparrows by the roadside game is tiring itself out. I can't begin to admit to myself the true contents of my head, heart, groin, the curl of my toes. What would a snapshot of early 2009 reflect of me? Mother goose? Nesting doll? Tomatoes and onions and my ever expanding waistline. I have one of the finest views of the Manhattan skyline within walking distance, my walking distance, but I forego the dreaming and ram my head straight on into the thick of it.

juice, ham, hummus from Sahadi's, bread, apple cinnamon cheerios, bananas, berries, toilet paper, lamp, change of address forms, apartment hunting, laundry.

endless to-do lists of things that are easily achievable but always eschewed in favour of something far less pertinent, just because another person is involved. I live like a hobo, but would run to the side of anyone who becks and calls as something far more put together, at the drop of a hat. I've done the hermit thing, now I'm onto something different. When it comes to myself, my own world, my own space, there are test patterns and white noise screaming over my head. Nothing flickers into life until another person is involved. I don't even have the attention or concentration to watch things, to read. There's only cognitive behaviour enough to pass judgment on the cohabitant of my space. (Still entirely uninteresting to me, try as she might.)

So it's now 2:30am. First class tomorrow is one I really need to concentrate in, again, I have the problem of utter apathy. I just don't care enough to pull myself into this crazy woman's head.

So it's long overdue, another Friday Five

5 things I wish I could say to 5 different people but won't

"No, a song that you have written in the past and have now sent to me is not good enough. This lady requires all original work written specifically for her"

"I've had better"

"Yes you do freak me out a little, but it's more your personality than your head"

"Honey, why do you pimp yourself out like that?"

"I miss you. Hourly."