The sound of you sleeping

The ulcer on the right side of my tongue is killing me. And there's something swollen on the same side of my neck, below the jaw. And I was caught in a drizzle walking Doggie earlier this evening.

Prolly should hit the sack soon (now) and hope everything's all right when I wake up tomorrow.

Sigh.

Yay! Instructions!

However did that elude me till now?

Read a poetry thread on Monkeyfilter, found some new poems, read some old, old ones in my portable hdd.

I do like Bukowski.

the sun
itself
knows
the sad truth of
how we surrendered
our lives
and deaths
to simple
ritual,
useless
craven
ritual,
and then
slinking away
from the face of
glory,
turning our dreams into
dung,
how we said
no, no, no, no,
to the most beautiful
YES
ever uttered:

life
itself.



Bukowski, Charles. "misbegotten paradise." Sifting through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way: New Poems. John Martin, ed. New York: Ecco, 2003.

The sound of you sleeping

Talking to you made me feel better.

The sound of you sleeping

I think I have much to think about.

Also ... I've been itching to dance. And I mean dance.

There might be a correlation - or not; I don't know.

Wonderful night - dinner at epicurious (definitely going back for their desserts which I didn't try tonight - I only had a salad and a burger) followed by drinks at eM By The River. Then a longish walk to the spitting merlion because Jaya wanted photos. So great to be seeing Jaya after - what, four years?

I'm whacked. Off to bed with you in my ear.

The sound of you sleeping

Mephisto asked - very plainly, very candidly (finally, I think) - why I still "flinch" and "frown a lot" when talking to him when all he's done since the very beginning is trying to make me relax around him.

I thought about that a little while walking Doggie, only a little because the answer came surprisingly fast: He is being too nice to me ... And that leaves me wondering when the other shoe will fall.

Also, it makes me feel worse for wanting to leave.

The sound of you sleeping

As he signed the documents I'd passed him, Mephisto looked up over the top of his glasses at me and asked, "Are you okay?"

Usually, when he comes back from a trip, he'll ask how I'm doing, and, as you would to any stranger/acquaintance who inquired, I always say, "I'm doing okay."

But today's "Are you okay?" - I'm not sure whether it's the question or his tone - it's a little hard to explain why I felt, at that moment (tired, achey, and dizzy), that was prolly the sweetest thing he's ever said to me.

Salsa class was super long today, but made it on time for pole prac; now, I'm achey everywhere.

And tired.

I feel like playing hooky tomorrow ... But I can't.

Man, it sucks being an adult.

=(

The sound of you sleeping

Have I ever mentioned how much I like listening to you sleep?

No?

It makes me smile - even as I fall asleep.

=)

The sound of you sleeping

I removed Anna.

My body was rejecting the piercing - as it usually does, sooner or later.

Now, I don't think I have the same capacity as before to get a new piercing. The piercings had assauged a different wound, a different pain than what I'd feel now, if I hurt.

The sound of you sleeping

Am thinking of Anna out.

Maybe it's about time ...

I'm so tired but I refused to sleep because ... I'm watching House.

Reiteration: Telly is EVIL.

Finally - the weekend, Saturday.

Bone tired ... I hope I get to sleep 'til early afternoon.