Bright Shiny Day

A fresh blank page, how refreshing... rather, intimidating. It starts new, clean, not necessary to look at... and then I open up my big mouth and tell three people about my blog. and I'm I'm worried that its going to lose its appeal because now I face the rather of other peoples scrutiny at my inner thoughts. My thoughts, why do I always feel the need to share them? Why don't I keep anything from myself, for myself.

 Alas, a bright shiny day it was, and I was hungover, and very light sensitive. Despite this my skin and my soul are so despite for what little sunshine I can get I soeak it through every pour with mind throbbing enthousiasim. And I told people about my blog. Blog...blog, who the fuck came up with that? and why the hell am I so damn negative right now. it was a bright shiny day, it was fresh and appealing, and it went smoothly, and it was a day of new beinings.New space... a space of my own... I have a home. not a house that my family lives in... a home.

When I was younger, I was afraid of my father leaving, and my mother leaving... never to return. Bio- dad found me having cried myself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon overcome with the fear of not seeing my mom and dad again... I was wearing his replica Indiana-jones hat, and holing a hair tie of my mothers, I had my square blankie around my shouulders and my eyes closed real tight. He was angry at me for wearing his hat, and bending it out of shape because of how I slept.


I feel at home, but I feel lonely.

I spoke with my grandmother today, last time we spoke she told me I needed to learn more respect for my family, when I approached my mother (her daughter) on the subject she told me that nanny is clairvoyant, and she just seems to know what shes talking about without anyone telling her anything.  I asked her today if she had any advice for me, it took her a minet but what poured out through the phone flowed through the air like liquid diamonds. It was poetry. And I only could hear half of it because of my shity cell phone reception... the finaly words were something along the lines of " so be careful where you step, and step lightly, because you always leave footprints behind" accept her version entailed the vision of soft earth... I asked her what it was like to be in her 80's she refused to tell me, stating that I would get to experience it myself and she didn't want to ruin it for me.

Thinking about my nanny I am in a considerably better mood, and I have blogged three days in a row now, and introduced one person for every day. Maybe I'll eventually get over the fear that gurgles up through my stomach every time I think of something reading the words that spill out from my head...