Good morning! It's morning! It's really early! I woke at six and watched it get lighter in stages, not in a gradation. I left and came back, and it had gone from black to gray, and I left and came back again, and it got lighter, and I left and came back once more and now it is as light as it will get for it is raining and it is dark out. As far as I know, this is how I believe the morning sunrises work.
I woke and stumbled around in a dark room, turned on my computer and spoke to tipsy Shan, ate an apple, wrote some paper, took a long shower, and went to breakfast with my friends where I had tea and toast, and talked about the sonnets (Shakespeare's) with my neighbor.
"I hate all these poems!" I exclaimed. "I damn them!"
"You didn't yesterday!" they point out. "Yesterday you were like 'My life is full of these beautiful poems, life is wonderful, full of poemy goodness!'" I had forgotten this.
I laugh. "I hate the old you-will-live-forever-in-my-verse line. It's so freakin' full of it." My neighbor said "It's so annoying when you read a poem and think 'This is so nice' and then it's the same old sentiment in the couplet."
Shakespeare, you are cruising for a bruising. I'm feeling rediculous. Also: somewhat nauseated.
If someone just wants to complain and they don't want to change, it's impossible to try to point out that our lives are choices, that we make choices about how we spend our time. We don't have choices about everything but we do about somethings. But if they just feel like complaining and not changing seriously, they just insist that they were born this way.
I had more than enough time to finish this paper, so I hope you will correct me should I complain.
My best friend has come and gone, and she loves me and I love her. That things are well with us makes me more happy than you can ever know. Such promise I feel, such a promise of deepness and friendship. It keeps me going.
I enjoy being stronger. I miss taking dance classes. I practice my modern dance moves in my room, I run down the hall and do leaps. I would be so badass good at Modern now that I am strong and fitter than I have been in years. I have balance and can hold myself. Oh, it's lovely.
I need to write now. I have more things to say about metaphors. Metaphors. I always say it like the guy in Il Postino. Metaphors.
I kiss you!
2002-10-04, early morning
before / after
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