I'm having trouble making myself care about anything today. It's weird. Most of my emails are unopened. The paper is unread; online news ditto, and most of my feeds also. The Masters work I was supposed to finish is barely touched. I couldn't read more than a few pages of any of the books I'm reading. Nothing on TV held my gaze, although, well, that's hardly new. And I ignored the phone. It's all kinda meh. Why meh? I'm kinda tired, but not hugely. I hurt an old back injury yesterday, but not massively...there's no good reason to be so flat and blah at the world. Did someone put prozac in my tea?
.......
about me:
- spiderkitten
- i love little things. the smell of new printed paper/grapefruit skin/crushed fennel/struck matches. the feel of: drawing on skin/tearing old stockings/creeping sunlight/anything that dissolves on my tongue. the sound of: an orchestra tuning/a cork pulling from a bottle/old modems/typewriters. the movement of: milk clouds in coffee/the coastline from a plane/a dream-twitching cat. the bounce when: someone understands what you mean/you wake up while still dreaming. the sight of: people sleeping/birds landing/the aurora. i have broken musician's fingernails. i doodle on things. i adore fireworks. still. and shooting stars. i make paper cranes out of leftover paper. i try not to hate how i look. i wear boots. i pick up fallen leaves. i have freckles. i love the cold, let it snow. i talk too fast. i like to touch everything. i am achingly proud of my family. i write. i am interested in your mask as well as your heart. i listen to stories. i am in awe of my friends. i love riding trains. i sleep badly. i love to read things that make me laugh out loud, magic from silent ink and paper :) i use smilies too much...
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