it smells good outside.
like–when you turn the heater on for the first time.
the streets of my city are altered with colors that are both beautiful and foreboding.
i want to sleep on the couch in the middle of the day.
i can barely get out of bed in the morning. the blackness of 6 am is sometimes the most comforting blanket to sleep in.
i want to have fresh flowers in my house all winter long.
i wish i could leave my city for the holidays. for some reason, i think they may be unbearable this year.
there isn’t enough passion in my life right now.
fall makes me want to kiss, and kiss hard.
i want to get a better camera and be a photographer.
my death book looms. it is both exciting and depressing.
all i want to listen to are singer/songwriters or folk musicians who sing sad songs about love lost.
james morrison, ray lamontagne, bon iver, ani difranco, jose gonzalez, aqualung, as tall as lions, kristofer astrom, ben lee, band of horses, jeremy enigk, elliott smith, glen phillips, ingrid michaelson, john mayer, joni mitchell, etc.
i am really not feeling like halloween, dressing up, or eating a bunch of crap. i kind of feel like skipping it all together.
my blond hair is going away. a chestnut brown with red will be taking its place. time for a reinvention of sorts. november 6th is the day.
i want to lay on my hardwood floors and write poems.
everyone seems to be breaking up or getting divorced. i hate it. doesn’t anyone stay together anymore? broken hearts are everywhere.
lately, i feel like packing my car up and driving it away.
i have made some of the most amazing friends this year. it is funny how when some things end, other wonderful things begin.
i am really good at my job. i even bonused again last quarter. this still does not create any love for it.
i need to organize my house. and then i need to move out of the ghetto.
this winter, i am going to try to love the snow. try being the key word.
i miss things i shouldn’t.
having it all seems impossible.
i am absolutely in love with sleeping.