mom, this is sara. sara, this is my mom sara

2004-10-11, 1:04 a.m.

if you go outside, uninvited, and you look at the stars, you settle down onto this enormous pillow of existence. the trasitory nature of your eye sight makes you thirst for every color and every little story that is propelled by the october wind. you look up into the mountain side you traversed as a 9 year old in the back of a pickup truck, and the dotted trees can be seen bending away from the sweltering sun; shade drips down onto the ground like coffee from a cracked cup.
so many lyrics correspond to my little life, its a pain to put any cd in because i feel pulled by the tides of anger, or frustration, or denial, or aimless hope. the puzzle expands as i open my eyes each morning, and anymore i have to walk across the pieces when i fall out of bed.