Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 767. There are knives on the cutting board at 11:32 pm. Sitting. My grandmother was drunk, wine staining her lips and teeth the color of my favorite lipstick. The cat finds anything that can make loud noises this late at night. And I don't want to know what all the moaning is about when she gets in the bath. Pschological Hypochondriac. Talk shows set her off. I'll dream of a faceless someone again, though any desire to share my life beyond this print, and spare phone calls, is red. We go back to imaginary words in imaginary places, leading imaginary lives with imaginary fun, smoking imaginary cigarettes, drinking imaginary rum. But there's no Mr. Rogers to lead us out of Make Believe land with a trolley. 11:29 p.m. - 2003-10-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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