From the bottom of the sky.

I have an itch. To be on a train, in a car, moving at a faster speed than my feet can travel. Traveling. Somewhere or anywhere.
Just for a minute.




I want to go to Ikea.
I want my nose to stop running, to stop sneezing, to not have excruciatingly itchy eyes and an itchy throat.
I don't want to wake up early and go to work.
I want to lay in bed with a boy and watch movies or T.V. on the computer.


I like cousins who feel like brothers even when we aren't blood related.
Letters from soldiers are something from movies and something that is real life as well. They leave a sense of forgiveness, melancholy and hope.



I am becoming really comfortable at work and today I realized it's at the point that is equal to the point in a relationship when you can fart in front of the person you are romantic with. Not that I walk around crop dusting everyone at work, I'm just using metaphors to explain a point.

I am into spaces and pauses and elongated gazes.
I really should be in a bed. Which means I should stop taking long naps in the afternoon. But that would probably mean I shouldn't be doing other things and those are things I am not completely committed to cutting from my life. If that makes sense, I am glad.



Merp.
5 hours from now I will be up and ... Moving?