sometimes i wonder when it is that i will wake up.

Walking down College Avenue, leaving an outdoor version of my english class, having skipped intro to philosohpy that morning . . . for a moment i think i was merely asleep, that in a few seconds my alarm would go off and i would roll over and fall out of bed . . then go tot he class i had skipped.

sometimes i am not here

where i am i do not know, but here . . . no never here. never in this mis shapen body on this warm winters day. never would i be here

even 2 and a half hours away, in a different twon, what seems like an entirely different world i still dotn belong . . . i should go furhter next time.

today i was nearly sweating outside, it is february but the sun is beating against my skin with such force.

the weather channel says it will snow tomorrow

my neck is sore and my thoguths drift back to you with a certain akward stubborness.
but i dont belong then either

i saw down the other day and tried to come up with the great plot twist for my life. like some little girls who are un happy sit in the playground and dream up how they are secretly princesses and their parents are just cruel wizards who kidnapped them. I try that from tiem to time but cannot escape my father eyes, my mother's nose . . . .
I used to imagine that i was secretly adopted. . . im not of course, but a dream is a dream.

It is going to snow tomorrow, and i wont have you to tell how excited i am and then here your grumbles about snow-hatred . . . .
tomorrow it will snow and i wont have you to sit with ym be a fire . . . or a fire to sit by for that matter
tomorrow it will snow and my father will nto play his great white north album for me
tomorrow it will snow and i will not have you to drag otu of the house and force to play with me
tomorrow it will snow

and i wonder if i will be all here