bonjour citron, when i read the word cumbersome, i thought it said cucumber, thinking of food aren't we? just a little bit. you know, i really enjoy creepy things. i don't know why, is there some deep psychological reasoning for adoring the strange and dark? the threatening storm yesterday made me so happy. it was so beautiful, i mean the sky was a giant fluffy gray brain. with its curved ridges, and the wet texture. and the air was snippy and little darts seemed to come from the surroundings and puncture my cheeks. and then the thunder late at night. it was divine to lay on my bed, the only soul in the world, calm and content, listening to the terrific booms and the shrieks of the lighting. my bed sheets cold and soft, trembling under the force of the giant outside my bedroom window. how romantic. oh, that i could take that moment and wrap it up, with layers and layers of green silky chiffon, and stuff it between A Catcher in the Rye, and Hercule Poirot's Christmas and take it out, and inhale it. and be there in my bed, in my temperate coccoon in the middle of the violet tempest.
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