Mania

Been hearing Henry Mancini all evening; beautiful melody on loop in my head.

Feeling a little fragmented, but not in a bad way. Sushi-shopping for supper. Insects galore congregating on the screen. I still haven't showered (dirtylittlebitch); sometimes postponing it is fun, just to test how long I can stand it and enjoy that hot steaming release as the surface tension eases...tonight would be a good night for a pedicure and an apricot-oil rubdown. Charlie Chaplin films, Xanax (courtesy of my fabulous cohort; i.e. partner in crime), sex, sushi...hmm...what am I forgetting...? Soft, snuggly thigh pillows.

Been craving more poetry lately...want to read it aloud, but preferably to an audience. Becoming sensitive to a strange mix of my own desire to share myself (physically, emotionally, spiritually, creatively) and be open. But a shy sort of hesitance (like that shown me by the shepherd at work today...Beautiful golden eyes, fixed but mistrustful...an urge to play and a fear of being touched. I still insist that there are few feelings in the world that beat earning the trust of a shy or wild animal. Before I left that yard, he had let me scratch his back and offered me three kisses--one on the eye, one on the cheek, and one on the lips. Soft and somewhat bashful, but it sent me soaring.) keeps me back on my heels. I want to sing and whistle and dance...spread joy carelessly. I like reading aloud to a willing partner, but I'm always afraid of exposure...if I read something to someone and they appreciate it, the day is never wasted.

Maybe I'll just keep e.e.cummings in my bag at all times. Shout it from my car downtown! I resolve to start playing in more public water fountains and singing aloud on my bicycle. Mm. Yes.