...you're the jester of this courtyard...

The smell of cigarettes on and around me is just a physical expression of my weakness.

The white rose on my book shelf, and the one who gave it to me are things I will never understand, and will always want to.

Do you know when you are learning someone, and you keep finding things that seem to not fall in line with what you thought of them, but once you know it, is even more impressive? You know the thrill that brings you? (Oh boy, I am so in like with you).

Awake for the past 23 hours, is depleting my energy reserves. At this point I can barely bring myself to move enough to change before crawling into bed with a sigh of relief. I read an article about this boy who calls himself Adam (I think from a biblical reference) and is a dreamhealer. I don't know what that means exactly except he cures people by rearranging energies and picturing their illness, and mentally attacking it. He's in Vancouver. I would like to meet him, and ask him to work with my energies to... increase them? And to cure the compromised immune system which keeps landing me in hot water. Back on Novahistex, as if I needed anything to make me more drowsy. Don't they know life already does that?

It's the end of November right now. If I can get through April without getting bronchitis once, I will be ecstatic. If I get it once, but not twice, I will still be better off than i was last year.

we strangers know each other now
as part of the whole design