seethingblue's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- waking up I wake up to early morning shuffling--people finding lost shoes in closets, putting more sugar in their coffee before buses come or they must clock in. I fall back asleep because I have nowhere to go. I dream about eating avocado with my fingers, bland and green and almost tasteless, about scrambling up the side of a concrete ditch when I was six, scraping my knees in criss-crosses, my flip-flops soaked in mud. One time I started crying and made my sister walk two blocks down to our house and get me another pair of shoes because I didn't want to walk home with mud between my toes. When I wake up now, the house is empty. The cat keeps one eye open as she sprawls out on her side. Sometimes I see the scar of stitches on her pink belly. I wonder if she knows that she will never have babies. She never lets me touch her on her stomach, bats my hands away or tries to bite my fingers. She moves away from me to perch underneath the dining table where the sun is filtering through in diagonals. I miss having sleepovers a lot. I write about nostalgia, it seems, everyday. I miss waking up early at your house, exhausted with a slight headache because of having no sleep, sitting up and sharing dreams we had the night before. We would wear our pajamas all day, eat whatever was in the kitchen, get dressed slowly, waiting for our mothers or older sisters to pick us up. And then when we'd get home, we would fall asleep on the sofa. Sometimes I feel like I have nothing to look forward to. I tell myself to get out of the house, to do things on my own, but I have grown accustomed to the nothingness day in and day out. 12:15 - 04 May, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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