Sunday, July 30

I want to marry David Bowie and spend all my time with him on our purple and gold spaceship. Eating candy bars and drinking martinis, we’d watch the universe go by our windows. I’d be king and he, my queen. We could be heroes.

Saturday, July 29

I really ought to wake up earlier on holidays. The mornings are surprsingly beautiful. My late nights are usually inevitable though. But last night I didn't really have a say in it. I remember playing with the cat and the next thing I knew I was fast asleep and so was she. I haven't had a *good* night's rest in so long.
The mornings are wonderful. Sleepy cats and blue skies. Joni Mitchell's voice is clear and bloodied. I have a lot of work to do but I had to take this moment to revel in nothing. I like the way things are. Alot. Some more free time would be nice but I'm happy. I feel bad for people with nothing to do. It sounds contradictory. It isn't. Nothingness, wonderful though it feels for short periods is eventually empty.
There are a million outside who need to be saved. Internet, what will we do about them ?

My morning will turn into early afternoon at some point. I must go make the most of it, while I can. Internet, last night was flecked with the brightest stars. I wish you could have seen it.

Sunday, July 9

I'm fine.
I worry about some people I know. The weather is beautiful. There are loud, physically huge winds right now, at 4 am.
Yesterday I laughed fifteen minutes without stopping and my cheeks felt like they would tear and my stomach hurt like a bitch. It was brilliantly worth it.
There's so much good food around ! I think it's time I got some flesh on the hips. And I haven't forgotten. I'm surprised you thought so.
I have loved this summer with all of my being.
It's called vegetating.