changin' times

once upon a trip, i met a bean. a wonderful, beautiful bean with whom i fell madly in love. we planned on spending the rest of our days, and nights, together. when i was with this bean, i wanted to be someone better than i was. i wanted to become what i was intended to be; not stagnate, but transcend.

and then the relationship crashed like a tree gnawed by a beaver. i was as crushed as the beaver who couldn't do the math while gnawing the tree. i had to re-build my insides from jump. it was a fun time all around.

and now... now i have met a bean. a wonderful, beautiful bean. a bean who says that my being causes a desire to transcend, to become better.

honestly, i find it more than a little ironic.

ovines

i never really liked the milk and cow analogy. and here's why:

--a cow will kick over the milk bucket, or kick you.

--a cow will swish its tail across your face and put dirt into the milk bucket.

this is what cows do. cows are messy; in both senses of the word. yeah i said it.

i actually prefer the fleece and sheep analogy. and here's why: i like wool better than milk. simple, eh? plus sheep are better looking. something about cows and their googly eyes...

at any rate, if i can get the fleece freely, can someone explain why i'd shell out my hard earned dinero to either buy the fleece or buy the sheep? if i can get the fleece for free, heck, why would i even rent the sheep? in fact, if the sheep will shear itself and wash the fleece, then give it to me with its blessing, darn it if i won't drive out of my way through snow to take that fleece thankfully. all without any sort of obligation.

and that, mes amis, is why sheep don't do such things. because they value their fleeces. oh wait, that's not why. sheep don't have opposable thumbs. that's why they don't do that.

counting with flowers

j'attends la change. quand je deviens mieux que je suis maintenant. quand je deviens plus sûr de moi même et de toi. et de nous.

peut-être la douceur entre nous est parce que nous savons que ces moments ensembles ne font qu'un rêve. tu me l'as dit ce matin. je ne crois point que je rêve, mais j'ai du mal de croire que c'est la réalité, et que cette réalité continuera. nous. toujours nous? oui, je l'espère.

ce n'est pas à la folie, mais que je t'aime.

pareille à elle

(except perhaps she does not blog. et ne me donnez point de question sur ma honnêté. je sais bien que je joue la hypocrite, ça se voit avec beaucoup de clarité.)

ce matin, ça fait un drôle de matin.

c'est mon corps qui fait mal. je crois c'est à cause de temps pluvieuses.c'est mon coeur qui fait mal. mais ce n'est pas la faute de la pluie.je me suis perdue. oui, encore....mes rêves me fuient, et me laissent dans le désert, seule avec le sable.

and now that i have squeezed out that morceau of mélancholie, i can continue my day with the regularly scheduled mask of nonchalance. glad i keep that one polished up and ready to wear.

ne plus être silent

je ne suis pas morte. et je remercie beacoup quelqu'un très cher à mon coeur qui a cherché pour voir comment j'étais. je suis une mauvaise amie certainement, car des temps en temps je te traite comme des vêtements habituels. mais en dépit de cela, je t'aime comme mon coeur.

bienvenue au nouvel an, les amis. cette année on essayera de vivre, et de ne pas se laisser rouler par la vie.