The past couple nights have been spent in a cloud- a polluted, musky, pirate ship coloured cloud. Sid stopped by the workplace last night, which added a slight skip to my step. He commented on my rapid weight loss, a subject I've sarcastically responded to with "I haven't been able to eat in three days". Not sarcastically because it's untrue, just because people seem to laugh about it as opposed to responding with horror when I add those inflections to my speech.
I have taken on the life of a fifteen year old girl. Loss of hunger, in her bedroom, waiting for a call.
I have always been a person who desires closure. Yet looking back, I can't recall a time that I have taken advantage of a closure opportunity. I insist on continuing things, through whatever muck we've rained ourselves into (thanks to the head I've been blessed with- I rain more, and for a longer period of time). This time I will not make the same mistakes- but this time I apparently will not have the opportunity to.
I have never been able to write while in pain, either. It's very odd, and would explain why a lot of my writings may have come off as phoney to Sara in the past. I will not be able to write anything of significance about this situation until I have completely moved on and committed sexual acts in a moving car with somebody else. Being a poet, I've still tried- some attempts can be found on that dreaded myspace blog of mine.
I know I've been Scrubs-happy (I knew I could muster a positive word) lately, only because it is hands down my most reliable collection of DVDs. Rory doesn't understand- she's a girl!
In that clip, not only does JD get it- but Cox with his baby jealousy, and Turk because of the engagement. It hits on all ends, what a success rate.
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