seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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when I was a freeport and you were the main drag

I feel extreme tenderness for New York poets. I play Laura Nyro on vinyl and wonder what it would be like to write a good folk song in 1969. The summer is a drag this year. I keep expecting it to get better as I come along in life. But I guess it's just an unbearably hot season. I don't think I understand friendship, I thought I did. I know I push too far to test the elasticity of relationships, to see how much someone will love me. When they don't love back, I break down, feel frozen, afraid. I deal with my emotions by sealing them up carefully. But I know I am a good person, in spite of what I have done or said. I want to just own lovely records, wear black eyeliner, hail cabs without looking foolish. I still think Paris is a good idea. I know I'll go there sometime, maybe alone, but I'll be okay. The heat makes time drag its feet. It makes me think that maybe this time things will work out. It makes me want to try headstands on the sofa again, eat orange popsicles that make my tongue fuzzy, the world silly and impossibly good.

01:41 - 31 July, 2006

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