novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- sundays are inevitably sundays with me i don't wanna make you cry today after lugging the mass of sweaters, shoes and other elka-paraphernalia from the trunk of my car into my apartment i transferred its bulk with a giant bag of donation-worthy clothes, shoes and other elka-paraphernalia. it's a trade-off. i'm such a pack rat. i keep 85% of my section of our apartment clean; my stuff in the bathroom, the hallway, the kitchen, my closet (which, i remind you, i sleep inside, and therefore must count as more than just clothes-storage), and half of my living room. but the 15% is ungodly and atrocious. empty picture frames, cds, mail, fabric softener, elephants, books and photographs. i am such a slow person when it comes to maintenance. i haven't got what it takes. today i drove to a thrift store to unload my bag of donatables. they don't accept donations on weekends so i ended up just buying another pair of old man shoes, sixties and sturdy and only half-loved, with buckles on their sides. in the evening, in the evening, that thing that gives me shivers. if i can't laugh at myself, i can't ever let stress go. i hear davey's bell outside, winking in the night sounds, wanting to be let inside but too afraid to climb the back steps up to our apartment. doesn't matter what they say, i just need to hear it from you. 10:23 pm - 06.09.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||