type type type
Jul. 25th, 2001 04:23 pmSitting here, in my air conditioning, in my sling back chair, watching the clouds race by in the flat pale blue sky of Texas summer, listening to MTV2 videos all the songs of 1993 that I used to see every morning before I walked to school...
I have such a hard time remembering how exactly I got this old. Why am I 21 now? Did I really live for 21 years? I never imagined. When I look in the mirror so often it's hard to see someone else, other than my sixteen year old face with a different haircut. I think it is in the eyes though. All the difference in the world in those green irises.
But really, I don't feel like I look like 21. I forget sometimes.
The medication might be helping a little. It's helping me sleep the night through, and that is a welcome change. We are still out on everything else. More time is needed I suppose. They say these things don't work quickly.
I'm typing fast just to put things down, not to construct anything, not to create. Just to write, the way I used to with pen and paper somewhere with headphones on.
It's nice to have the house to myself.
Aside from the computer, and the digital cable, this is like so many afternoons I spent in summers past. Quiet in the darkened house in the afternoon, avoiding the burning sun, listening to music. It's a good feeling.
I have such a hard time remembering how exactly I got this old. Why am I 21 now? Did I really live for 21 years? I never imagined. When I look in the mirror so often it's hard to see someone else, other than my sixteen year old face with a different haircut. I think it is in the eyes though. All the difference in the world in those green irises.
But really, I don't feel like I look like 21. I forget sometimes.
The medication might be helping a little. It's helping me sleep the night through, and that is a welcome change. We are still out on everything else. More time is needed I suppose. They say these things don't work quickly.
I'm typing fast just to put things down, not to construct anything, not to create. Just to write, the way I used to with pen and paper somewhere with headphones on.
It's nice to have the house to myself.
Aside from the computer, and the digital cable, this is like so many afternoons I spent in summers past. Quiet in the darkened house in the afternoon, avoiding the burning sun, listening to music. It's a good feeling.