I want to frolick.

Sometimes I lay awake in bed in the middle of night and I wonder when I'm going to die. I wonder if I'm going to die tomorrow or live to a good old age. I wonder how I'm going to die. Its strange. I assume its normal.

I want to frolick sometimes. I want to roll down green hills. Its sad that Brownsville is so hot and humid, no hills, no green green hills, no tall, wide trees. I would love to live in a city that has nice scenery. It'd be great. I think I'd be happy.

I want to get my traguses pierced. When I have 60 dollars I will do it.

I miss him a lot. I don't think he misses me though. Jerk. Ah, I guess I wouldn't miss anyone if I moved to a bigger city, or anywhere that isn't Brownsville.

I heard someone else is coming back though. That'd be strange. That person has changed tremendously. I miss their old personality, their old ways, their old familiarity.

My friends mom is in the hospital. She has a mass in her abdomen, or something like that. She's getting surgery in the morning. I hope she'll be fine. A lot of people don't seem to be making it out of hospitals lately.

I wouldn't mind being a housewife.

I wouldn't mind being a housewife.

Or rather, I wouldn't mind not having a job but living off of my artwork. That'd be grand. I think that is every artist's dream.

So I wouldn't mind being a houswife but still having the time to work on my art and photography. It'd be amazing.

Life has become so strange lately. I do nothing all day. I don't work (though I wish I did have a source of income). I have school once a week. I am a bum.

Everyone around me is having a baby. I want a baby too.

Mindless tapping.

I'm feeling so under the weather. I think the sudden transformation from cool and wet to hot and wet has affected me in a terrible way.

I feel sick. I have a fever, my body aches, I can barely move and it has affected my digestive tract. Or rather my digestive tract was dysfunctional before the fever and the aches. I'm not sure what it is.

I'm listening to Calibretto 13. Calibretto is good, Harley Poe is good (a tad bit insane), but nothing could ever replace Calibretto 13. There's just something amazing about them. I love Joe's tiny, colorful voice. I love his acoustic strumming, the occasional harmonica and good hearted lyrics. They're just amazing.

On another note, Anathallo's hymn song collection are quite astounding and simple. The way I like it. Not too pretentious, not too poppy, just simple heartfelt hymns. I am a sucker for a good old fashioned hymn as well.

I applied at Michaels earlier. I wouldn't mind working there. They should hire at least ONE person who knows their stuff when it comes to arts and crafts.

I need to break my creativity block. I can't think of anything to paint or good photograph projects. I'm so blah right now. Just blah.

I want to fly away. That'd be phenomenal.

I was talking to Desiree earlier and telling her how I'd like to go downtown with friends, have a good potluck and invite anyone around to come join. Whether they're prostitutes, trannies, addicts, hobos, drunks, or the random walkerby. No evangelism, no condemnation, just love, food and Christ. It'd be great.

I should probably go to bed and hope to be rid of this bug by the morning.

Thoughts.

I miss my high school/early college years. I had an interesting group of friends. But I suppose I changed, or they changed, because I rarely see them.

I feel cast off into a different isle. I am talking about the people from an old church I used to attend. Its not that we hate each other, but I suppose when you stop attending all the same church functions, you just stop seeing each other.

I'm not alone, by no means am I alone. I have a great group of friends now, and quite a broad selection of people as well. I enjoy their company but I still miss those old friends. I see them once in a while, but its not the same. I suppose it was just a different time.

I think I've been stuck in a quarter life crisis. Idiotic, I know. I remember hearing a guy talking about it when I was only 18 and he was around 23, maybe 24. And I thought it was ridiculous then. But Now that I am here, I don't find it to be so ridiculous.

My life has had so many drastic changes occurring rapidly without my consent. If it were up to me, my life would not have changed so drastically. I would change just one thing. Just one thing. Or I would change the events leading up to that one tragedy. There was so much that could have prevented it. But I suppose its useless dwelling on that now.

It still hurts. I've teared many times just today. The sting of death is strong. I just hope that there is a heaven, and I just hope that he is happy there.

He's been in my dreams lately. I don't remember my dreams often, but there have been a few that have just been strange. I love being in those dreams. Where he is still here. And nothing has changed. Its pleasant. Its sweet. Its nice.

You never know just how much you'd miss someone until they are gone. You never know how much you regret the awful, hurtful words you've spoken to someone until you can't take them back.

Death. Its a strange thing.

Life. Its an even stranger thing.