09.26.2002 - 1:53 p.m.

Sometimes I can feel myself thinking, but I can't tell what I am deciding. I try to examine my thoughts and all I see is a strange purple fog centered not in my head, but just behind where my collarbones meet and I don't know how to make sense of it I don't.

I do not mean this to sound of angst. It's not angst.

Maybe the fog is just what it feels like to stop thinking. I don't think I've ever stopped thinking, but maybe that's just because I can't notice I'm not thinking if I'm not thinking.

My hair smells of hottub because I slept through my shower time this morning, the warm rumble of the cat draped across half of my stomach. I needed some time to drift; one day this weekend I am going to sleep in, just me and the cat wrapped in strange, purple fog.

Sometimes it is comforting not to understand.

Sometimes.

***************

On a much shallower level, the guy tutor just showed up (his shift starts at 2). He looked at me funny when he walked in, and when I said "What?" He answered, "Did you change something? Your hair, do you always leave it long like that?"

and I said, "No...it's always like this."

and he said, "Huh. Well, there's something. You look hotter than usual today."

So that was cool.

(For more coherent entries, see my older page and pick one at random.)

-stonebridge

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