a lot of wet

I grew up with iceberg lettuce. Rain tonight, stranded. I have a fire in my lungs. This is it. Now. Waiting for something but it is already happening somewhere. Life is happening inside and outside my window. I want to taste adventure. beauty is fleeting.

Lying in a bed of memories

Home for the festive season. Missing it before I've even gone back. Summer and minimal responsibilities. I wonder what age I'll stop feeling looked after. Maybe when I have to look after someone. Another 1st of January, where I question some choices of the previous years. And hope for more satisfaction in the next. I am grateful for aspects, regretful for some and sad for a handful.

after work limbo

Not quite ready to come home, I often take time to forget about work, wandering the city, before walking home.  Tonight I bought a tiny telescope, tried on a couple of dresses I knew I wouldn't buy, and walked home the long way, past my favorite building.  It looks like the way I imagine the house in Great Expectations, and the street looks like a New York Avenue.  I listen to my best loved song of the moment, usually on repeat until I can't listen to it any longer.  I imagine and concoct scenarios and conversations that will never happen now because I have imagined them.  Sometimes I feel so happy that I squeal out loud and run few steps, but then I often land on my ankle the wrong way, and imagine breaking the bone so it sticks out of my skin.

Porsche Lights

From my bath, I can see the glowing red Porsche sign in Collingwood. Tonight it reminded me of summer time & less pressure. A drop of bathwater dripped into my wine.