fragmented

I find myself without direction or concentration enough to write a coherent paragraph, let alone an entire blog, today. so I am taking a cue from a lovely friend who also writes blogs... and rambling emails... and just making a list:

where am I willing to compromise?

why do I feel pulled to live near large bodies of water, but have no desire to swim in them?

I am impressed by the difference new mascara makes.

I wonder what caused the switch to olive oil... and if their labels are really correct...

it's so weird when you identify with the 'villain' after the movie... and during the movie... especially during those pivotal, heartbreaking scenes...

motherfucking annatto. gross...

I miss the smell and the possibility of tucson.

is it ridiculous that I think chiggers are a figment of collective imagination?

what stops me from drawing?

why can't I thank him for the compliment from a month ago? because I'm too busy wondering where he thinks it will get him... and too busy trying to come up with something clever.

I secretly wish I wanted to go, to see everyone, and that it was going to be a surprise.

I miss reading before bed.

musical talent of any kind would do at the moment.

there are people who will tell you there is always something better... so right...

I just want to wave a dictionary in his face, but he still won't get it anyway.

human error. that's got to be it.

why can't I hold onto that moment of bold? or that moment of calm? or at least stay out of the moment of anxiety?

I wish I knew my own limit before I'd passed it.

so many excuses. so, so many.

where did the urge to weld come from?

I am still so mad I didn't see their show the last time they were in town.

I need more light. (I'm pretty sure that's half my problem, right there.)

sleep better be easier tonight.