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2001-03-05 || 4:33pm || a kelly for the new millennium || kelly. don't you think it is funny that i am way up here and you are way down there and i can point us out on a map, use a blue pin for you on the black dot signifying san diego (piercing right through the slurpee machine inside the 7-11 a block from your house) and a red pin for me on the coast line of the east bay, just above the e of Berkeley, and i can count out the inches between us, the inches signifying miles, different lines signifying highways and flight routes and railroads, i can trace the correct route with my fingertip, compute the exact distance, the travel time, an estimated time of arrival if i left right now from this very seat, but for all i know and all i feel you could be on another planet. (but you are always on another planet? except for when i have you with me. when we are in the same room. when you are sitting on your couch and i can sneak up behind you and clobber you, or kiss you, or braid your hair, or cry about something i remember, or make you sing that song with me one more time with harmony because i've always wanted to be sisters in a rock and roll band.) throw down a ladder or send me a message with the twinkling of stars, send me some kind of sign, because i miss you. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |