I leave little messages for you here
I'm not at the point yet, of lighting one cigarette off the end of another. But getting close. Seems all I'm doing lately is smoking. In the car, half smokes because the rides are so short. Or I get bored during break time so I don't finish a full cigarette. Maybe it's making things bleak in my round world, not sure. I broke the new iPod dock already.

I bought a beautiful sky blue couch at a yardsale on the weekend. But it won't go into the tiny doors of the trailer (yes, I live in a trailer) other than the main doors. It will go through the backdoor, but that's on the other side of the house. So it's making my front porch quite homey for the time being. At least, until I can hire someone to move it for me.

Heartache shine a light...down on me tonight
I woke up alone for the first time in a little while, it made me feel disoriented. But I eventually kicked that lame feeling out of my head and remembered that I enjoy waking up to an empty bed. Just seemed...odd, at first. But I was so cranky yesterday that I suspect I wasn't all that successful in pretending I didn't care that he left in the middle of the night, not waking me because he knows sleep is precious. But I guess I couldn't help but feel a tad disgruntled.



Photos I took years ago are popping into my mind. Not in relation to what I'm feeling, they just appear like debris on a beach, washing ashore from a plane crash. I pick them up, examine them for meaning. But no possible puzzle combinations seem to fit, or make sense.

Work's stressing me out. Which is a good sign, in my mind. This means I'm busy, and getting back into a groove I used to inhabit. I know it shouldn't but work does really define me. It keeps me in line. Makes me participate.
it gets me lying sideways
Black storm clouds rolled in last night. The air turned cool, and rain soaked the ground for 3 hours. I splashed through puddles on my way to the airport to see someone off safely. I watched the jet taxi out, then take off, leaving nothing but white showers of mist behind it. Those turbines made reluctant water move as if it were on fire. I thought about my camera. I thought about a lot of things, my face on one side of the window, rain drops on the other.

I wanted to be on that jet, too. I just don't know where I'd end up.


She's In It For The Money - Matthew Good.

Labels: abstract thought, Apostle, running, settling, smoking

I'm tired, but don't feel like going to bed. I want to keep reading a book I've read before, on the couch in the living room, covered with an Indian print sheet of fabric I picked up in Galway. The quiet cleanliness of the living area and the sound of a light rain pattering on the poplar leaves outside is a balm on what ails me.

I don't really know what ails me. Nothing new, I suppose.

Cigarettes I light, burn too quickly in the ashtray. There isn't enough time from when I wake up to going back to bed to fit in all the leisure activities I want to indulge in. I guess this is where the wish to be independently wealthy comes in.

Grateful for joy in small places.
- I still have a carton of 'Irish' cigarettes left in the freezer.
- there was no ring on his left hand.
- my washing machine works perfectly.
- the water that comes out of the faucet is hot and ready.
- Matt gave us a preview of a track from upcoming album on his website.
- my living room is unpacked and I have a new reading perch.
- the wind billows the dining room curtains in a quiet wispy way.
- the rain.
- I have 14 new-to-me movies to get through.
- Bailey is starting to forgive me.
- my laptop still plays music to me, like a lover.
- I bought a new copy of Micheal Clayton and have watched it 3 times since I got home.

Above photo was taken shortly before we left Inishbofin to get back to mainland in Ireland. I lagged behind, smoking and taking photos. Thinking to myself. Lighting more cigarettes.

I'm told one will be in a funk after a vacation. While feeling not too bad, there are small periods of melancholy that sneak in. I take this to be normal. For me, anyhow. I catch myself planning another big move and mentally tell myself to stop, enjoy the current location as it's only been a couple of months and everything is good here (so far). I feel like a shark that can't stop moving.

I feel like I could like the taste of blood.

Labels: depression, joy in small places, melancholy, settling, settling in