|Nobody had the decency to abandon me there.|
My paint brushes need washing and my orchids need watering.
My desk is scattered with photographs and magazines.
Yesterday's clothing lies in a ball at the bottom of my hamper and there is a day old mug of coffee that I mindlessly forgot.
At night the windows are opened, and leaves fly in through them.
I awake with leaves in my hair, and curled up in my blankets, my earbuds tangled precariously around my neck.
At night I lie awake wondering how my arms and shoulders and collar bones all connect together in a way that is functional and how that it's beautiful that bones can get along and work together for a greater good.
On my walls there are photographs, sitting there like little paper ghosts of the past.
Haunting me with the previous smiles and haircuts of others and myself.
Trying to gather my thoughts, but they are like children at a fair, constantly tugging this way and that.
Quick, let me go check to make sure there aren't any mini van driving soccer mom serial killers outside my window who found my name and birthday in the neighborhood directory.....
OK. I am good.
Went away last weekend. Across to the tristate.
One of my homes in the world.
There are places that completely unscatter me, where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.
Sitting on the fire escape in the rain with a book and a cup of coffee is the most wonderful thing, especially in autumn when you can look down into the foggy hills and see the brightness of all the colors, like an impressionist painting. Climbing the hills in Toms, making it back to the lodge only to see a man in a kilt playing bagpipes (Wedding idea, EJ? ;) or running down to the locker rooms with their gunmetal gray walls and humming vending machines.
How all the faces are the same in the summer, which surprised me even if it shouldn't have.
Someone playing Fur Elise on the piano.
One of those places that you know inside out from bad weather days spent playing hide and go seek.
I'll be back in January, the week before college starts.
There is a 61 song playlist from this week, eloquently titled "stuff", of all the music I wanted to listen to but hadn't in awhile.
Back up there.... where I said I was safe? Scratch that.
A computer called "jilian" came up on my local computer network. My computer's name is Asher. No one in my family has a computer with that name. Someone is out to get me.
And here is a closing quote: