10:39 am - Monday, Aug. 26, 2002
Song:
Adjusted to a schedule where three sharp bells twice bring about consciousness. Meals are set to a schedule that I�ve found impossible to keep on my own accord.
I want a nurse to go to 24/7 because I�m too hot and feverish and I don�t mind at all if she mentions the words urgent care again.
It�s like the emergency room, but less severe. Swimmers ear. Puffy glands. Longing to sleep.
Hold me, will you, boy of my imagination. Your voice hasn�t rang in my mind for a week and I am forgetting just how the decimals vary and the breathy tone you give to �I love you�.
Drenched in the firelight, raising your voice in song that gives new name to Iowa in my mind and removes traces of connection with that state and Kevin.
Your voice is beautiful and your face is too, but hers is neither and that weekend sleepover shouldn�t be mentioned to her.
I long to clasp each of their hands once more because everything was safe and my largest concern was making sure Hopi didn�t think I hated her.
Here... oh here, there are strangers and I can�t comprehend the thought any longer that there are people surrounding me that I don�t know.
Sitting and readjusting. Watching news: flashes of memorials, the remains of two bodies found. MTV: Unbearably thorough coverage of the up and coming VMAs.
Back there all that mattered was waves beating the sand and loving everyone without labels. I loved my false little world.
previous : next