school.

I've got the tiniest little migraine, thrumming in my temples. There is a little indian man with a hammer made from stones tapping away at the back of my eyes.
My throat feels likea few grains of sand have lodged themselves against the back of my tongue and my uvula.
My body aches, each bend of a jointlike beding a doll's leg a little too far.

No, I am not hungover.

The lore of this situation is essential to my being. I am minorly sick, again. The ways in which I have most likely contracted this sickness make it not only worth it, but gratifying. I need a vitamin c kick and some throat coat. Then my lovely, i will be alright.


The boys next to me are rather amusing. Nearly cuddling together to bear witness to one computer screen. The study hall attendee became to focused on the vision before her to put an end to their shenanigans with appropriate timing. Books about the BATTLE FOR KOREA and CHINA RISING are among those on the shelf beside me. I cannot remove my eyes from the student crafted scene to my left, the purposeful and the incidental. A lake reflecting a sun, the longing to be at Lake Erie again wisping in my body. The paper on the floor in little bits, reminding me of the arrogance of the place i am.

The crucial nibble of my core is waning away. I am feeling all too vagrant today. Thsi could be a good thing, ever changing and drfting.

That is the life i wish to lead, with you. I long for us to be happy, everywhere. Yet at the same time, i do hope to be secure, unattackable, untroubled, warranted and weatherproof.