don't you just love it when

you write something and then it goes away.
that happened to me today.
but i guess that's good because then he would have known.
and don't you love it when the only one trying to talk to you is the very one you wish wasn't in your life?
i don't do well with sarcasm. i don't do well with a cold heart but that's what mine is like sometimes. too bad.

don't read into this, cuz there's really nothing to it. i want to type, and think without really thinking about what's really on my mind. so some sort of meanlessness shows up here and i wont remember it later, but i don't mind. it's okay.

your voice melts right through me until i'm undone and all i care to do is melt right into you...keep listening...i can't listen to you becaues the moment i do that's the end of me. and i could, would fly so much better with you. and so i should. wings. laughter. music. notenoughtime.
'he' should come to portland with 'us' in two or three years.

somebody said, i urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'if this isn't nice, i don't know what is.'

don't ask because i sure wont tell.
what else can i say for now?
i'm still disappointed i lost what i wrote in the afternoon.
i should write my essay for political science class. a formatted essay on personal values?! that doesn't make sense to me...for some reason.

this is one of my favorite mornings.

riley girl loves music.
she was crying when joseph and her parents left for the store, and we just sat and listened to some new songs one of my old friends just posted online, and now we're still doing that, but are also playing with stuffed puppies and a kazoo and having such a chill time. special moments. we shared a big bowl of peaches, cherries and bananas sprinkled with cinnamon earlier.

i have such peace with what's going on with matthew. i think the pre adoption forms are getting to mobay today. i don't even know if he's going to be mine yet, but i'm so happy and at rest inside about it. it's interesting and good.

riley's hair is just like mine, little french braids and a curly pony tail with a headband. :]




it's been so hot that it's hard to play outside with the kids because it just makes me melt and want to fall asleep...joe's been so antsy to play outside so that's why he went with his parents...so that's good for him. when i went to get him from his room this morning, he said "my tummy's eemmmmpty...i know how to fix it! do you know how to turn on the stove?" and i said "why what do you want?" and he said "PASTA! no...by tummy's not empty!"
it's always fun to see what he says first thing, because he's so imaginitive and remembers the most random things. it's always funny.

i don't think i'm crazy.

if matthew's available, then i'm going to adopt him, if the jamaican government will allow it. he's the motivation i've been lacking since...the 90s (haha! "the 90s" wow)...to do what i really want to do. i am finally ready to do the necessary schooling to have the job i really want and settle in one place. WHAT?!?! ME? IN ONE PLACE! yeah. wow right? anyways.......
i just have to try.
i may not get matthew. he might go to someone else. he might stay at the children's home.
but i know the point right now is to try.
so i am.
cuz if we could be together forever, it would be...awesome. the best thing in the world. it's a non issue to me that he might always be sick, that he might have fetal alcohol syndrome, and that i'm single.
because i know it's the right thing to do.
and he is in my heart the way jamaica is in my heart.
indescribeable love.

off my chest

i don't care how much attention it gets or how funny people think it is...but for some reason it just really bugs me and makes me uncomfortable when white people mock hip hop and rap culture by wearing fake bling and baggy clothes and sing their little rap songs making fools of themselves. and it makes me even more uncomfortable when a bunch of people get together and watch videos of it and laugh and stuff...it's just weird.
i'm not talking about the people who take it seriously [vanilla ice, eminem for example]...they're not making a mockery of it so whatever.

i just don't like it. is that bad? so slay me...i just don't see humor in it. i don't like when people make fun of each other. not saying i'm innocent of it. but it makes me sad. and it's just awkward. why do people think it's okay to do that?

how will i make it?

one of these would be nice:


i don't really want to take a nap, but i don't think i can stay awake in my 6-9 class tonight if i don't. i haven't had allergy symptoms like this in i don't even remember how long and all i've had energy for this week is SLEEPING. it's ridiculous.

and i have weird pains in my quads and haven't been able to exercise since i went to jamaica. [on the way there, in two seperate small moments, i had these crazy spasms in my quads, a very concentrated area where there was a POP!!!! of pain followed by my whole body sweating and shaking, feeling like i'd vomit, unable to move my leg for about 2-5 minutes...it was crazy. even now, just getting up from sitting down i feel a sharp pain...weird.] so even when i'm not feeling all stuffy and achy from allergies, i can't exercise because of my stupid legs. except for maybe just arm weights and situps. but i want to runnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

anyway.
i have nothing more to say.

gimmie sunshine

ryan adams gets me every time.
some of his songs have such a peaceful drive.
i don't know how he does it...but it's a gift.
i'm serious, just listening to his music makes me FEEL LIKE i'm in a comfortable place...i'm sitting in an office chair and the walls are painted bright colors and it's stuffy in here, but i feel like the day is just reaching dusk and i'm in a big airy room, windows down with a cool breeze and my down comforter, maybe even drinking hot chocolate or tea [or jamaican blue mountain coffee!!] and even though some of my best friends are in the room, nobody's talking and i'm completely rested with nowhere to go until tomorrow.
that's just one of the ways i feel when i listen to his music.
sometimes i feel like his songs are about me.
the happy ones and the sad ones.
and sometimes i feel like running around in a meadow and sprawling out on my back to watch the sky, minus the bugs and allergy symptoms, when i'm listening to his music.
sometimes his music makes me cry.
anyway, i'm going to bed now. hopefully i don't have the same nightmare for the third time. [it involved a tiger trying to kill me and trapping me in a room and i had to crawl out a hole in the celing and there was much more to it but i'll spare you the details. i don't want to scare you and i'm sure you can find other things to laugh at...]

my sister and i are going to make a children's book about a young elephant escaping his elephant world and...nope, i wont tell you the rest. angela's art for it is amazing.

buona notte.

...while listening to the end of the end by bellarayne...

...i just started typing for the sake of typing, and these are the words that ended up on this page. and i guarantee you that when i re-read it, i wont remember thinking it:

so where am i going?
that's the question you always ask so well.
what answer will i give this time, this time?
are you even listening? or do you just want to fight?
i thought i finally might be pleasing to you,
be everything you thought i would be.
i'm sorry i'm so different, so different than what you expected.
but can i still be your little girl?
this bleeding heart wants to know, will you still love me?
i should be old enough not to care, but this heart, this heart wont let go.
stop trying? to stop trying would be the equivalent of dying.
i want you in my life, in my life and sharing joy.
why must we be broken? can't we heal, why can't we heal?
let's try to be friends. let's let you love me again
like you must have when i was small.
this is the end.