You're the colour
you're the movement
&& the spin

 

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Delusive Perception

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rina

:: 2007 19 February :: 11.20pm
:: Mood: weird
:: Music: a bit of fry and laurie

it's odd to have your name used so casually between strangers. sharing something that's just a word, but is really the whole of your being, something that describes you, is you, but simultaneously is just a way of identification.

i want to know if every other person with my name shares my traits, or my ambitions, or my strange tendencies. if we have friends with the same names, if we like the same books, wear the same clothes.



imagine if we didn't have names for things. words made up to express something we feel, even though they're mostly inadequate and they push emotions into little restrictive sentences. it's all so strange.

sweet words


rina

:: 2007 14 February :: 12.02am
:: Mood: resigned
:: Music: cotton wool - lamb

and i could stay there (make my home there)
alone, again, but it isn't a new sensation.

how everything keeps fitting together and the way things turn to dust are intriguing, at best. but i'm adopting a new policy.

how things were, or are, is no longer the point. ahead of me it feels like a gauzy fabric is wrapped around future packaging; a fog, the kind that drifts and smoothes over the long grasses of fields and leaves dew in its wake.

hopefully, about now, transpiration/condensation/evaporation is still in effect.

i'm not waiting. i'm memorizing the shape of things to come.

sweet words


rina

:: 2007 29 January :: 10.44pm
:: Mood: busy
:: Music: a promise to return - bear mccreary

transposition
she is unsure how to begin, and tries, inexpertly, to bring all the pieces together, finding how mapped hearts can draw lines from one place and tangle in another. strings, crossing paths, and then forever expelled in the opposite direction.

she is too young to feel this old, and she sighs, and the dim light from the windows are making the room glow at the edges.

2 whispered | sweet words


rina

:: 2007 21 January :: 11.02pm
:: Mood: sick
:: Music: you gotta feel it - spoon

it's a long way home

sneezing with a thermometer in your mouth = uncool.


(i am not dependable. these responsibilities of mine give me both purpose and the ability to fail.)

sweet words

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