twittering

no insight here. not even any real activities. just sadness. sewing away in my closet, trying to sew bags, but keep getting distracted by internet, novels, knitting projects. listening to cathartic music, the weepies' hideaway, ani's dilate, patty griffin, everything but the girl's walking wounded. "i'm sleeping later, waking later. eating less and thinking more. And how am i without you? am i more myself or less myself? i feel younger, louder, like i don't always connect."