you spend half of the morning just trying to wake up

2004-03-10, 5:17 p.m.

in the cool shade, my pond is glowing green, speckled with the white petals from the apple blossoms. i squat next to the warm stones, feeling the sandpaper texture under my bare feet, the air has reached homeostasis, after being charged all day with the heat of summer, and its the same air creeping up my back. i look over as a frog leaps under the pads, leaving the wake of comfort for the emerald water thats saturated with color and algea.

i guess i dont really have much to say about myself, not very often anyway. it aggravates me, i should have a day i could outline on paper, but it never comes out just like that.