Clothes Lined
<< 9:01 p.m. - Sunday, Apr. 18, 2004 >>
It echoes. So much that each movement gets lost. Tiny strands of time that are criss-crossing themselves over and over. I�m under a waterfall and trying to observe the world and I just can�t keep my head out of the water to see anything at all. Gasping breaths of air. Like the fish, who can get neither air nor water because everything is crashing down at such a speed.

There are so many plans that I have and had and will have, and I�m not sure they will ever reach the surface. I worry that in the end; nothing will end up getting done. It is already this way, why do I expect it to change? Parents come home and it feels like clouds immediately envelope the house, and I�m trapped in here again. Hiding in my room. Hiding in my skin all over again.

Work to do, like always. I just have to start. I just have to move. Last night I could barely get out the words, how am I going to write a report? This week I�ve been so confrontational I hardly knew myself. Sabine, Sheila, & Mary Frances. What the fuck is this all about?