that message that will fix it all

nad the only thing in my inbox was a short little message from my mom.

normally this would make me smile.

i twirled among the trees while dozens of fireflies grazed my fingertips. the moon was not out tonight and the stars were thick in the black sky. i thought about many things. there are so many paths to choose. i dont believe in predestination or fate. everyone has their own menu of choices. when igo into a resturant i can never decide between the burger or the grilled cheese. both seem equally delictable, or maybe that night id rather have the grilled cheese but later wish i had gone with the burger. its no big deal, maybe. choices plague me. sometimes i just wish that there was a fate so i wouldnt be so torn. every little tiny mistake i make effects the big picutre. and what if it comes out blurry in the end. messed up and in the end useless. but then again it could in turn become a masterpiece ... displayed for all the world to see and know.

but what is this symbolism bullshit. i hate symbols. things mean what they mean. a green dress is a green dress. as is a burger and fries.

interrupted

as i was saying ... for some reason the chewy bars tasted better tonight and the blanket felt extra warm. even if it was unnaturally chilly outside. i made pyramids out of the stars and made them dance by moving my eyes around. i couldnt name all of the constellations. so i made most of them up. ill imagine myself tiptoeing around the galaxies getting yelled at for the stardust on my new white socks. bleach mom, bleach. if i could write a book i would write about us. us being me ... and im not skitzo-whats-it-spelled. but i don know that im several people. im camp, im new york, im family, im friends. im mixing up myself with myself and i need a nap. the worst part is feeling rejected, because i think the star thats not so bright, not so twinkley, is the one id rather look at.

a tiny spider jsut crawled across the screen. my first impulse was to squish the little creep ... but its so small and beautiful. its carmel in color and slightly transluscent. its tiny arms are moving quicker than i can follow and its gliding across the glass. perhaps ill let it live. perhaps it has a family. perhaps i think about these things too much.

today i was surprised by my own tears. thats never happened before. usually i cry on my own convictions and i know when its going to happen. and today i wouldnt even consider it crying. more or less a few tears shed. not even a quake or shudder came from my body. i was watching strong women speak about their dead husbands. killed in hijacked planes. men who dies trying to save people ... to take the planes back from the hijackers. and for some reason i was mortified. how awlful to know that you probably wont ever see your family again ... how incredibly morbid am i being ... i hate to read morbid and "depressed" diary entries ... and this isnt one of them being that i am not morbid nor depressed.