Back home, we'll sleep better..

Thursday, Sept. 29, 2005 ~ 11:32 p.m.

There is something so self satisfying in standing in the obsidian of the night, in a torrential downpour, with the wind stealing your words right out of your mouth and sending them downriver, with droplets of rain finding their way to the end of your nose and down the crescent of your neck. Something completely gratifying about slipping around in the mud, shouting and carrying on, especially when you don't have to, and then the ache in your bones when you've come down with some alien illness because of your escapades.

I don't feel like vomiting anymore. I didn't then, I just didn't know what to think. It's funny when you find out things about people that you didn't know that completely change the light in which you see the person, and then you realize that you still like them anyways, even if they've deviated from the perfect image you've laid of them in your mind.

I've been opening so many doors, thinking with my whole brain, writing with my whole heart, creating with my whole being, feeling with my whole emotion. It's been brilliant. These are the kinds of things I wanted to experience. I was yearning for that, back over the summer, telling myself I just wanted to feel again, just wanted to open up and think, and while the entire thing is so bizarre and so.. strange and alien to me, it's brilliant.