april showers

bunnies, chickens, and plastic eggs are nice.

living again

i didn't go anywhere, really. i was waiting until everything worked out. it did. for now, though, i have to pretend that the terrible economy will melt away like none of this ever happened. i'll close my eyes when i see all the people lined up outside the worksource building. and i have to pretend that i know what i'm doing on june 14th. i have to pretend that the only domestic bit about me isn't dead. i have to pretend that my room isn't dark, i can speak spanish fluently, and that you can afford collective life. i have to pretend that i won't miss this city, pretend i'm not leaving. i don't want to pretend that i'm not going to miss the roads, the trees, the buildings, the smells, the air, my babies, and my bus passes piled on top of each other. i'm going to listen to rockist pt. 1 until it all goes away and i can re-write this and stop after the third sentence. i don't think we should worry.