The sheer distinction alone
making you stand out
has become the ability
to notice me -
if I smile
you see
that I inhabit the same space.
if you are allowed
an unfiltered angle of my eyes
you might understand
that I am
scared
not mean
uncertain
not aloof
it all comes down
to the fated stars aligning
a siberiean window of being
coughing at the right time
or simply whether or not
I choose to lift my face to meet you

So...Good-bye and stuff. You know, don't you? I mean, don't call me or anything, 'cause then I won't be saying no, and we all know I need to.

"I'll bide my time/ until I find /that you're listening..."

And another thing, while we're at letting go and moving on - stop looking down your nose at me. Assuming the air of "better" b/c you think you have it more together than I do. "I don't know, but whatever...*knowing, mature chuckle*

Just wait. When I do come into myself, there will be no stopping me or questioning my motives. It will be so blatant and in your face, none of y'all will know what hit you.

"Fighting the battle of who could care less..."

From some song that I heard on O-rock...fitting, isn't it?

So I am fed up. Not like, "Kelly's pitching a fit dear God everybody run" fed up, but fed up in the sense that I am over listening to myself speak. Yeah, I know I'm trying to work everything out. Yeah I know that you can talk to your friends (the true ones) until you are blue in the face if you really need to, and they will listen and try to help or just listen and try not to scream "shut up already with this woman of the world nonsense! Humble yourself and get a man, a job a HOBBY, something!!" I KNOW how to fix most of what ales me, and have an inkingly of how to deal with the stuff that I don't know how to fix entirely. I appear to be in what they call at work the "land manatee" stage, where I'm slow moving, cumbersome, and basically taking up space with the sheer weight of all that stomps around my head...

Off to work, to be continued later...

"Because then you get leftovers. Shrimp and lobster are never leftover. Meatloaf is. Do you like meatloaf?"

Could it be any simpler?
The universe is waiting on me...
but do I have to?

Oh. Good. Lord.
I am le tired.

Trying in vain to keep myself awake for a coupla more hours...so forgive if this gets bramble-y. It just goes to show you that sometimes fun comes with a price tag. No sleep. Drama. Mishaps. Delerium. Tables at 4:10, those bastards.

Maaaan, I can't fight it anymore. I'm going to bed, I don't care if it is 6:30 in the evening.

You kissed me...at the bar...?
And you, suck it up, mister.
Was that really Michael Jordan?
Mack is the name, number stealing is the game...
hanging out with the most popular man in St. Augustine.

I will settle here, on my perch, and look at you down the bridge of my beak. Thus has been the weekend. My thoughts volley between: him, him, him, or HIM, San Francisco or oh my God do I have to live in Florida anymore, should I go out or take the rest that my body truly needs, caring or really not...at all, ever...

One day someone will look at me and say, "Kelly. I know." Oh how the breath will rush out of me then.