i don’t want to write about snuggling. i feel like snuggling but i don’t feel like thinking.
tonight, i ate ice cream and played hide and seek in a dark house. i didn’t actually really eat that much ice cream… processed dairy mixed with processed sugar makes me sick.
close your eyes and drift away. incomplete thoughts. a river bed. he said she said. left over lettuce from dinosaur barbeque in the fridge getting limp. eggplants in the garden needing harvesting. my juicer is dirty. i need more celery and lemon and ginger and green apples to juice. taking all the solid out of a food prior to consumption may not make sense, but it sure does feel good.
i dreamed a dream that this girl (i kinda know of her in real life) had purple sparkly converse high top sneakers. she was sleeping under a tree. her shoes were next to her. i liked them so i very quietly tip toed towards her and put my feet inside them. my feet were so little in her big shoes– made me feel like a child. as soon as i finished tying the second shoe, she sat up quickly out of her sleep and tweeted “omg the WHORE is trying on my shoes. i’m calling the cops” she capitalized “whore”. then she took her cell phone out and started dialing 911. i ran.
when i woke up, i put on some pajamas and went to snuggle.
i danced a dance in my underpants to the sound of les miserables soundtrack. then i watched the video of me dancing the dance in my underpants. then i thought “maybe if i die, they will play this at my funeral and this is how people will remember me”. if only i could be so lucky as to have friends who would know to play that video at my funeral.
i used to love imagining my funeral. i haven’t done that in a while. when i was a little girl, i begged my mother for my very own casket but never received one. i wanted tufted pink satin on the inside. i think there was a movie about a guy who had his funeral while he was still alive so he could be there for it. if i could find it on netflix, i would watch it. maybe i would identify with him and then i would feel more connected to humanity.
my mother was lucky to have so many children, each so different from one another.
I love the sound of this. You are so close to your feelings, your dreams!
Keep writing Jacqueline!
” as i finished tying the second shoe, she sat up quickly out of her sleep and tweeted” She tweeted first? Instead of talking to you or calling 911? She’s a twitter whore! LOL
Stefan xox
i was struck by the fact that she tweeted first, too! it was a girl who actually did call me a whore on twitter (who i’ve only met once or twice in real life) so maybe that’s where that came from. people call people whores.
thanks for nice comments
After cleaning, place the shoes in a cool air to dry, and to prevent direct sunlight. To prevent aging, fading and serious deformation, you can’t make the shoes close to the fire. The service life of the shoes will be decreased if it is placed under the sun or dried by the hair dryer and other inadequate care ways.
what? i really like this comment because there have been so many instances when i’ve been faced with the challenge of cleaning shoes (fancy satin-y pumps that got mud or dessert or swimming pool water on them) and not known the best approach but this doesn’t relate to anything, does it?