Have you ever read/seen/heard "Krapp's Last Tape" by Samuel Beckett? It's a wonderful one-act play about an old, sick man who listens to sorta-journal entries he recorded in his youth. I listened to it on vinyl with an ex-of mine when we were very much crazy about each other. It's a beautiful piece.

So anyways, this is my favorite part:




Krapp curses, switches off, winds tape foreward, switches on again)--unshatterable association until my dissolution of storm and night with the light of the understanding and the fire--(Krapp curses loader, switches off, winds tape foreward, switches on again)--my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.
Pause.
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.
Pause.
Here I end--
Krapp switches off, winds tabe back, switches on again.

.....

I said again I thought it was hopeless and no good going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I asked her to look at me and after a few moments--(pause)--after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.





I hope you're all safe and happy.
xo and whatnot,
Alison.

    I'm in one fanfuckingtastic mood. AP Art History was cancelled today, which is fabulous because I was in no mood for doing my work last night. A piece I wrote for my friend Carlee was received extremely well today. This is especially important to me, because I wrote it in an environment I'd like to write in more often. So far, the two completed pieces I've worked on in this environment have been my absolute best yet, no discussion. I am thrilled, no other way to say it.

    It's snowing, and I love snow. Everyone should go outside right this minute and look at the snow. If I weren't stuck in this stupid, cramped, radiator-infested schoolhouse, I'd be out there walking in it and wearing it in my hair. I love black coats and sparkly mittens and scarves, they make me feel small. I love winter streets -- every stroll is a walk of independence. I love the cars with their big red brake lights gleaming in the grey of the afternoon, like the christmas tree lights that aren't in living rooms quite yet. I love turning corners in winter, and being able to wear another person for awhile.

    I love crappy music that feels good and seems to play in accordance with my own inner monologue. I'm an idiot, but I'm content and I feel the need to express it and how lovely the light was last night at sundown, and how completely different it is now, but how it's lovely just the same.

I apologise, I'm being incoherent and it's embarrassing. Right now, I feel like there's four roads to anywhere -- four ways to everything.

I love slow dancing and neck-smelling. I'm excited for New Years Eve and champagne and fizziness in my stomach and my head for kissing at midnight. I'm happy, and I really need to stop because this is humiliating, but so be it. I feel like I shouldn't be missing chances, shouldn't let the fact my parents are in court right now get to me. I want so much better than this.

    So here it is, let's do it: let's celebrate our Christmas. I'm ready and willing to be a happy, good woman. I'm going to do my best to try and balance the two.

    God, I need to kill myself.

now i am a confused red-head. yes folks, that's right! because of popular demand i have gone back to the red-side.
... but am confused for an entirely different reason. intrigued? i think not.

i'm really quite happy, for the moment. i'm in the mac lab all by myself, and the leaves are changing and the stand-up fan is blowing at the perfect speed/angle, and i'm not wearing a bra and i've got a bit of a crush and i'm listening to the itunes indie station and am not planning on wearing a bra tomorrow either and i'm rambling.
this station plays really good music- they've got neutral milk.

sometimes things are good and simple and it overwhelms me and makes me sadder than anything. i want things to stay sweet and affectionate and pocket-sized like a note i can carry around when yr not around.

i think maybe i'm imagining it, so i'll sit patiently and wait my turn. this can't possibly be the way i think it is.