typing around my thoughts
12 December 2004
3:56 p.m.
I've spent today listening to the local folk/NPR radio station and reading.
There was sunlight today, but I kept the curtains drawn, moving between the weak light and the dimness in my apartment, trying to be as washed-out as the afternoon has been with my slow steps and barely lifted-above-the-floor feet.
I don't feel numb, but I feel guarded. My mind wants to process, and my heart wants to sit back and listen to the music from the radio. Banjos and guitars. A tamborine now and again. And my favorite--the harmonica, or mouth harp.
I am in waiting, although, what I'm waiting for is questionable.
Perhaps, it is just for darkness to fall, and in that darkness, for something larger and more substantial than myself to lie down beside me and whipser to me in the shadowless darkness of my sadness.