2004-02-17 || 3:09 p.m.

|| tuesday ||

it's raining very hard and i would like to go outside and stand under eaves but cannot bring myself to put on jacket, put on beanie, get the tops of my feet wet because the ballet slippery shoes appealed to me this morning. i think this is a hormonal feeling. i think this is mooniness. i miss you terribly and i miss you terribly and i can yell i love you from rooftops today; i could. i could cry about it. on the rainy days my mum used to let me drag the card table out into the dining room so that i could set it up and drape a blanket over it and hide out in an igloo. on the rainy days my dad used to take us out to the boat anyway to hole up in the cabin just for the sake of dinner away from land, with boat docked and door open, to listen to the rain fall on harbor water and smell that diesel smell mixed with mcdonald's. it's raining and i would like to paint a picture of my sister but i can never get her face right. i would like to finally cultivate the doll house i have been thinking about if only to bliss out over wallpaper. i would like to listen to leonard cohen and hum while the laundry's swishing or there are cookies baking or there's a log quickly disintegrating to carcinogenic ashes in the fireplace. i would like to sneak under the covers with the lights on and consider the imaginary notches running up and down bedposts, up and down spines.

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