I feel so terribly comfortable walking at night. It's a little scary sometimes, that I feel safer outside than indoors. eh. love dancing. Gotta organize my room. It's like a bomb went off in here. I have yellow roses. Daydreaming. Good night.

I'd like to know why it's never been explored, that each of our bodies are uniquely individual. There truly is no size fits all; we all have different reactions to many different things. I can only dwell on myself. I can't eat bread; drink apple juice; eat pizza; drink regular milk; use certain makeups; take medication normally... etc etc etc. Am I overly sensitive, or just very very aware of my body's reaction to things? I often don't feel my possessions leaving my person, or being attached, but I do feel every fucking bite I take and how it is digested in my body. There was a time I thought eating was a punishment; I was always in pain and always uncomfortable eating. A random article, well into my 40s, about a person with the inability to gain weight - no matter what, but instead had abnormal reactions to what other people ate to gain weight started me on the search for what the hell was wrong with my body. It seems I may have IBS - however, I'm not so sure it's a bad thing. It's helped me avoid the pitfalls of beer belly and middle age/secretary's spread. It certainly has saved me the discomfort I grew up with in my belly!!! Then there's the possible schizophrenia/ADHD... now I'm not sure if it wasn't just a physiological reaction to what my body was undergoing fighting with the foodstuffs and drugs given to make me better. I hallucinate, I hear voices, I feel things, I believe some wildly unbelieavable things... but now, without meds, without certain foods, with narrowing my intake of things and watching/monitoring what I use and eat, I've lost all that (well, except for being hyperactive) and again.. I've always been thin, but now I don't feel like my middle is weighed with iron or stone. My head feels clearer, I am less inclined to fly off the handle, and less indulgent with the 'bad days'. Then I read about how many of the things I felt weren't really a mental illness, just things the brain can do to itself. And I wonder... was it due, again to reactions of my body to things? Or was I in fact mentally ill (am I? not sure still). Nothing is strange when it comes to how your brain, your body, your emotions, your digestive system, your bones, etc, will react to things that are either uniquely beneficial to you, or uniquely malicious to you. You have to listen to your body to find out. That's my theory.

I went through all the old pictures I had hidden in the basement. Humidity made some of them tacky. I did the rest...

Anyway, something my best friend gypsy told me in passing kept coming back to me: "you've been skinny all your life..." I'm looking at the pictures from when I was a wee lass, all through school, pregnancies (I burned all those), kids, the various bfs, etc etc etc, and while I am not very pretty in a handful of them, indeed, I have ALWAYS been thin. Where the hell did I get the thought that my stomach protruded, or that I was chunky in the thigh area? Not even the pictures that were at my worse (and boy, do I think I look ugly in those) do I look anything but slim...

and I was/am pretty. I never thought I was pretty. As a young girl, I had a fragile sort of look, all big eyes and lips and fine face. As a mom, depending on the situation, I looked well or very sickly. Yet you can see fine features in all of them, even the goofy ones. Perhaps its age; they say when you look back at 40, you realize you were prettier than you thought you were.

I'm gonna be 50; gone are the full lips and the tight skin on the face, yet I have fine features, strong and well delineated. I am still slim and not saggy at all. Even my skin, showing it's age, still looks like it glows. Dare I enjoy this? I don't know. I just wish I hadn't taken all this time to see the pretty girl I was/am/will be.

My son living with me for the nonce; wondering how my baby daughter is doing. She got a job at a restaurant. I hope she can learn how not to use people.

I feel horrible! My daughter was sending my granddaughter to me, and we weren't aware 11 was too young to travel on train alone. So I don't have my granddaughter. The sorrow and dissapointment she must be feeling is killing me; I love that child so much!!! I want her to myself for ever so long, just to have my baby with me, my first grandchild, this amazing wonderful delightful smart and precocious child.

I wish I could take my heart out, it hurts so bad.

I resented him, sometimes. I knew he was needy for a reason - brain tumors, increasing pain from a back injury from a job, coupled with the desire not to be dependent on anyone and to be alone - I understood this. Sometimes my life doesn't allow me to be where I am needed by people, and I do resent that.

He committed suicide. He called me to be there. And now, I am haunted that I could not be more for him. He was just a friend, a guy who was bitter at how life had treated him, what it had handed to him, how it had left him. I see him everywhere now (which can be just the drawbacks of a small town). I see him at the Weis, at the restaurant I work, walking up the block painfully, or at the top of the stairs, asking for some assistance. He was lonely, and sometimes I feel I let him down.

I was there for him when it was worth it, though. I cared for him through his attempt at suicide, and then his body just gave out, and I found him there, cold, stiff, lavender skinned. I helped dispose of his effects.

In a sense, I'm glad I am haunted by him. I am glad I knew him. I am glad I found out about him. I am sorry his life became what it was these last few years. He is at peace now.

Dream: Horror/haunted house thing. Rooms, kitchen, darkness, storm, fear, love, loss multi-dimensional?

room to room was different places. Love was older Al Pacino look alike, felt like Oddity. Abrasive, self-involved and negative. lost him in one of the rooms - death. Thing came to explain. I left the house/building. Had to take a bus back. Bus route was strange, lead through desolated areas. returned to house to get lover. Thing had return, we encountered rest of us. I sat on lover's lap, he was irritated, upset, angry. Thing explained, and outburst from lover: I've wasted so much time instead of loving you, appreciating what I had! I turned and kissed him, crying, holding him, telling him I loved him and woudl always love him. he held me; that was the last time I saw him. Could not find the house anymore and the bus route changed. dream ended with me and my dog continuing to search for the building, to see him once more.