my insides are burning. the cold has caught hold and i'm yearning to break free. . . in time i'm told . . . but i'm ever impatient.
spent some cash on gifts for folks, feeling broke. but i'm not. in debt. but i am.
what else can i say?

can't sleep. three something in the morning and i'm wide awake staring at jack, staring at me, like he will open up his unshaven faced mouth and say something like, "jeez girl, you uh, think it's time to hit that bed.." something real awkward like that cause i read, and reread, he was unsure of something deep to say when he needed to say it . . .
but the shadow his brows leave over his eyes, deep brown drooling lust, i'll take it, who needs words when you got action . . . right kurt? ha! stupid asshole that he was.

thought of death earlier. how every december someone can die. or no, begins to die, or is dead, or will die. . . it's the focal month of death.
teddy just before, elliot just before, pa just after, me just before. . . i know i know so pitying huh? my rambling suicidal hey look at me - i'm-miss-sexton-holden-bullshit-bitching-always girl right? well, maybe, but it's true. i'd rather be shut up in the colors of my dreaming on a heavy dose of tylenol pm then be here, swelling up with words i'll probably delete come sun up
ha, and that's a joke, there is no sun here. just gray.

gray and roses. beautiful roses that remind me that life is illustrated.