I'm blogging from school because Rogers is screwed up again (of course). I just finished writing the freakin' longest email I think I've ever written. It should have had chapters. Now I feel guilty. She won't want to read it. She'll forget about me again. Of course, all of this is paranoia.
I have to leave in under an hour to go to work, and I just came from a creative writing workshop in which I received someone's poetry to critique. I made the mistake of reading it before I left class. I hope my cringing went unnoticed. Such repetition. Such blandness. Such awkwardness. I wonder if my half-hour effort at the computer late last night is having a similar effect on my classmates?
What else has happened? I was sick, now I'm better... Nothing other than that has any significance. I live a pathetically bland, yet delicious existence. Again I find myself delighting in small pleasures. Blades of grass. The air on my skin. Today was the first day I could see my breath in front of my face. It actually felt right to have a cold in this weather. It just... felt right.
I think I must be exuding some sort of one-ness vibe. Cats are flocking to me these days, up to three or four a day walk up and demand to be patted, talk to me as though I could understand, follow me home. When other people come too close, they hide, and come out only to see me. I am suddenly a character in a song, I'm Kate personified, if you can believe that.
Look it up ;)
Adam is going to see Ben Folds next week and wants me to come along, but I'd a) end up sitting by myself anyway and b) not know any of the new songs. And I'm secretly afraid that the concert will be lacking and that I'll be disappointed. Or maybe I'm afraid that I'll like it, and that my mental image of what a *Ben Folds Five* show was like will grow to mythic proportions, never to be satisfied with any measly solo gig, and I'll like in a constant state of want for the rest of my life.
Posted by hKath at 4:00 PM ()