February 22, 2006
I feel a sense of settling, my eyes are heavy and the pains in my heart have continued. It feels as if my heart is working over time, as if it is pushing a gelatinous mass of love and milkshakes through my veins. I don’t want to be here, in class talking about nothing. I want to keep hiding in beds, in places where I don’t have to leave, in the room where laughter and life abounds. I want to hide at the bottom of that bottle, in the deliriousness that is wine and vodka. In the hilarity of my drunkenness that takes me to dark lakes and dreams of thieves. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and yet there’s nowhere but everywhere that I want to go. I want to keep packing my bags for nowhere, for you to come up behind me and hold me at the sink, to dance with you on loud decks while smoke surrounds us and our lips meet again and again repetitively, to sleep and sweat in your bed. Some things have become love, some things have become heart, you are one of those things, today.