I've been playing
Winterbells for so long my finger is tingly from gliding over the trackpad. I feel it's much easier with a mouse...
I am moody. I am slipping as if trying to shuffle on ice (which will soon be a very literal reality) between smiles and hiccups. I wish I had some Legos; everything in its right place.
I gave myself a fuzzhawk today. Shortest mohawk. Normally I 'hawk myself in times of emotional crisis. This was an attempt to battle one off. Is it working? Time will tell. The onset of winter is freaking me the fuck out, all of this darkness and cold and of course I'm impractical enough to shave off my warmth.
iTunes Genius is too apt at providing a soundtrack to my undulating moods. I am suspicious.
Over to my near-left is a bouquet of roses the realtor gave us upon selling my grandmother's house. Earlier I chewed the stems.
Um. Earlier I was much more deft in my communication of the incomprehensible moodiness I've been feeling. I'm basically back in the crowded darkroom with the safelights dimmed-- there's no color, I pick up fragments of conversation but can't connect (or mis-connect) them to the violently throbbing entity of the whole. HOW IS IT ONE AM?