2004-06-25
Some Things Are Better Left To Silence
hearing: Under These Skies- Macrosick
reading: Middlemarch by George Eliot
wearing: jean capris, brown belt, white sleeveless shirt, red shirt with four stars safety pinned to it in a curve from my left shoulder down to the middle of the front of my shirt, big green plastic ring, white hand warmer with red green and yellow stars on it, little yellow faux flower pinned behind my left ear, red pen drawing on my left shoulder with a heart and elvish characters that say Mela (elvish for love)
I am much better. Much much better. I have not done yet, but at the least, my mood is much uplifted, my head is far clearer, and I believe my stomach has settled down very much.
Now here is where I am supposed to say something randomly and painfully lovely I think, but when I tried to write in my composition book, little could come, and I think I wish to keep the little I wrote to myself. The little I was able to write was constructed so well, but I couldn't bear to show it to anyone. I couldn't possibly. I could translate it into Elvish, but what would be the use of that? What would be the use? I think it would hardly be right of me. It would hardly be prudent of me. Some things are better left to silence.
...whispering it over and over...turning over the sound of the exotic words on my tongue...
The End.