I'm very very sleepy. I'm having the strangest sleeping pattern. My days last 24 hours or more and then my nights are at most 12 hours....the dreams are blurry and heavy and they sink deep inside of me when I wake. I can't remember them but I'm left with an unsettled feeling like I've just tucked a monster in my belly, and the evil thing pinches!
I awoke to a rainy morning. I'm more pleased than ever when i'm greeted by this weather. I need that rainy rhythm to bring me to life. I feel more at home amidst the cloud bits falling against my window. Fragment, disintegrate, scatter....Yes! Yes! Yes!
I feel like I can see people for who they really are when the sun hides away. It's strange how the sun seems to show them in a false light. As if they're a photo that's over exposed. When the clouds are shrouding the sun it gives people the chance to radiate their own light...I don't know, that's how I see it. People become their own prisms amongst the rain....
I have a new plant.... It's stubby and spiky and a cross between an aloe and a cactus. I worry I'll kill it as I have a knack for murdering all things green. And it needs a name as I give all my possessions something to go by....I'm taking suggestions, you know... :-)
I've been cleaning heavily. Not so much dirt and grime-type but organizing, sorting, throwing things out. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to throw things away... emptying space clears my head, or at least tosses things about in there (making for interesting new wonders and delights!)
I like to imagine my head as a strange little room, with different colored walls lined with paintings of birds and fish. They fly and swim as they please from one piece to the next. Not one painting remains the same for long. The room is roofless and the moon is always present. Perhaps it's always night or maybe she just lingers at day teaching the sun how to smile her smooth crescent grin. The picture walls are lined with raggedy shelves and wooden trunks and piles and piles of words and pictures. There's candlelight mingled with dark little corners, a mixture of here and not here (but mostly gone..gone..gone ..!!) It's calming, similar to warm tea breaks and a tasty book, a night walk under a glittered sky. It's a place I curl up in whenever I can to empty my pockets and sort my flowers and charms..........but the frightening thing is around my neck is a string of keys...things still need a lock, does this mean i'm not entirely free?
Still no ideas for my plant's name...
I'm going for a tea break....lady grey, again...
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