2004-05-30
Tears As The Last Petal Falls
hearing: Perfect Memory - Remy Zero
reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot
wearing: jeans, bare feet, white shirt all cut up, paper saftey pinned to shirt, necklace,belt
I just can't summon the heart to write today. Things had been tough, and I had a quick, soaring respite, but that was from something completely unconnected to my troubles. Now that my initial ecstasy at the relief I held has dwindled back down, I can feel the whole of my spirits slowly sinking down into the quicksand which held me before.
And when I am in such a mood, sometimes, I just can't bother to think of it. There is nothing more to write, which I haven't written of before. I could twist it so many different ways, and it never is exactly the same, but now and again, I get tired of it. I won't stand for an outpouring to my diary. All I think I have left, are tears. My words are gone. Only tears.
What did the last petal* say?
*Drawn by me in photoshop elements with a generic brand (?) graphics tablet