Saturday, April 29, 2006

The State Of Being Caught In Dreams

There is apparently some spam-producing e-mail program that uses random words to generate the names on the e-mail accounts it uses. These e-mails are always received with the same subject line, and they have names like, "Fluctuation V. Barbershop" and, my favorite, "Bloodthirsty H. Ninnies."

Bloodthirsty H. Ninnies!!!

In other news:

Lately, I want to wear the same outfit every day, like a uniform. I want the smell of oranges on my fingertips for company. I want to sit in a room with the lights off and the rain against the windows watching movies in technicolor. These days, nobody wants to hear stories about little boys who climb mountains with lions, about little girls searching for their fathers, lost at sea. I want to be done with the people who want to be done with me. I want the bowed legs of crickets to sing me to sleep, swaddled in the warm cocoon of a bedroom. I want to be caught in hibernation like a bear, heavy with fur, with knowing the seasons and the changes they bring. I want to be loved or to be left alone.