can't: a thing.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
@ 3:33 a.m.
there are no streets to walk in my neighborhood. the desperate boredom that prevails in peace river was tolerable when i slept through it, but sends me searching for hobbies and former habits when i must endure waking moments. i would regularly enjoy a good nighttime neighborhood streetwalk in all of my former residences. this place is too dangerous. the feeling that we are trespassing in a land that does not belong to us is distinct and unsettling. i feel that my home is a cabin, and that i am developing fever. there's no clean water to swim in, there are no trails to walk in the sunshine, there are persistent fire bans. it's touch-and-go. this body, this shell that doesn't belong to me anymore, sometimes rages and sometimes recedes. the hormones are intense and my swinging mood is impossible to control. i don't think i've ever really felt helpless before. not like this: not over myself. today is another day, but not a day like any other. i will arrive at work to greet my own smiling face on the front of the building, to have everyone congratulate me on my new business and ask me how it feels. i hope that it feels good, like i earned it and wanted it and love it. maybe i will, in which case i would probably buy myself a cake. i enjoy my anonymity, though, and my giant picture on a giant building will have an effect on it. it's independence day. i'm not free.