2016-01-06

002

It's been ten years since I've logged into diaryland, and I wish I hadn't left it. I recently found a site that allows you to write, counts your words, etc - a place to vent and practice, but the monthly subscription for it was astronomical. So I'm here, at my humble internet beginnings, the only place I ever felt comfortable writing. I'd like to use it, brush the dust from it, be anonymous and yet public. Talk about all those idiot daydreams, navel gaze and probably complain a lot, too.

Like about how cold it is, when just two weeks ago it was balmy and humid. It's hard to heat an old house. Electric heaters spewing hard earned money into the air, and we try to block it off with walls made of blankets, because at someone point architects decided that actual walls were so passe - this thing called "open concept" is bad for the environment. Me personally, I like walls and doors and the ability to shut things. Boundaries! What do architects have against boundaries? The fake walls remind me of forts and being a child, when I used to play pretend disasters were happening and that I had to hide. Some kind of pre-pubescent clairvoyance was going on there. I've always felt more comfortable when restricted, I guess. Too much freedom and I just don't know what to do.

January will continue, I'm almost sure of it, and the car will keep not starting, and no one will ever figure out what drains the battery. There will be too many cats in my house, and not enough hours for sleeping. I'll try to stop being so mean while pretending I never do anything wrong. And maybe I'll find my words again, and not let them get chased off by the sense that they dent the universe and call up karma.

xx

gemsquared at 10:49 a.m.

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