crazywonderful

Tired.
What time is it? Dane? Don’t hit the snooze button. Dane. Don’t – Aw, fu-.
* * *
Tired.
Yes. Get the hell out of bed. Laura’s trying to sleep.
TIRED.
Because you were up until 2:30 last night.
Couldn’t sleep.
I know. Get up.
Is it still there?
Is what still there?
Everything.
I don’t know. Your snooze button is working, so probably. You have to get up to check.
* * *
Weird dreams.
What the fuck’s up with the conversations with the burnt dead guy?
Let’s just be thankful he only wants to talk.
* * *
Uh…is that the underwear you’re planning on wearing?
Dunno. What pants am I wearing?
The brown ones.
Then yeah.
That’s the underwear you want to be wearing if they find your horribly dismembered body somewhere?
That depends. Am I going to be identifiable?
Good point.
You know, one of us really needs to keep it together.
* * *
Rr. Ulcer kind of hurts.
Dear President Bush, please stop bombing Iraq; it is making my tummy hurt.
I just can’t believe this is happening. It’s too wrong to be real. So surprised last night, when Margaret said it had started. And then-
And then?
“Where the fuck did that hole in the sand my head fits in go, anyway? I swear, it was here a second ago…”
“So, like, dude. Is this war?”
Somethin’ like that.
Maybe in your next life, you can stay awake during History class.
I was tired. Is that another plane?
Yeah. It’s okay. Planes fly by all the time.
But that’s the second one this morning. Why is it so loud?
We’re on the top floor.
* * *
Speaking of history…was I this scared last time?
I don’t remember. Probably.
I feel more scared now.
Scared is kinda hard to quantify.
I was thinking about that letter I wrote back then. Maybe I should post it on my web page.
You wrote that in grade 12.
It doesn’t really feel like much has changed. I can’t think of anything else to say.
Maybe you shouldn’t say anything.
I have an appointment with the Wise Woman tonight. Don’t know what I’m going to say there, either. Everything feels so inexpressible, and my life is so stupid and small.
Didn’t we have an appointment with her just after 9/11 last year?
The next day.
What’s the first thing she said, when she saw you sitting there, trying to disappear?
“You want a hug?”
It was worth it just for that. ‘Sides, I think you weren’t the only one.
So you’re saying no bailing?
That’s right, Chicken Little, that’s what I’m sayin’.
* * *
It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful-
Dane.
Sorry.
* * *
I can’t breathe.
And we would like to take this opportunity to extend a fond farewell to orange alert.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Questioning/Examining:
War. What is it good for?
Grateful/Relieved:
That I went to at least one peace march.
Regret/Deny:
Being so clueless.
Pondering/Obsessing:
When is it going to end?
Whistling/Humming:
evolve – ani difranco
Reading/Scanning:
Fugitive Pieces – Anne Michaels (So unbelievably beautiful. Finished reading it and started again at the beginning.)
Shout out to:
Those under seige.