Almost over. Ordinary life didn’t even pause to notice it happened - school vacation ended, but I had no school to return to. I like that. I miss it, because I miss always having someone to talk to, even if all we talk is bullpoopy, but I don’t want to go back.
Books are breaking my heart, like lovers who leave before I awake, or friends who go home without giving goodbye hugs. I can’t stop consuming them, like the Whale swallowed Jonah, but they are breaking my heart nonetheless.
They are breaking my heart because eventually I have to close them, and leave our little world behind.
Christmas lights are still lit, like a lighthouse to guide magic home, and antique lamps replace modern ones and pens are kept in gum tins. Where is my life going, when I’m not watching it? Why is it so hard to write in my diary, when that is the one place I know to be my own?
I want to drown in coffee. I never want to leave my house. I want to make things, paint things, knit things. I want to fill a notebook with words, and then another and then another. I want to fill so many of them I have to keep them in the bath tub, because there is no other place. And then when I take a bath, I can watch all my words wash away.
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