2004-08-11 - 6:39 p.m.
The heat has been bearable, but I say so only because I am still alive and feeling very literal. Persuaded romantically, I would say that the heat has been UNbearable, in the 100's, i'm sure.
Today was spent in a middle-aged lady fashion. Met with friends, shopped, ate casual noodle cuisine. What could 34 year old Rachael want but this? Nothing, that is what I tell you. Nothing.
My darkest day in recent memory was Saturday, in all it's silence and brooding. Pencil rubbed transcriptions from the graves of strangers, put cream in my coffee, a sign of total apathy, But it was glorious, oh day. I wrote it down so that I wouldn't really forget, that as I was gazing in the etched face of a dead Russo, the strains of a music box Greensleeves accompanied by the beating of a large white bird in the window sill yonder joined me. I swear on everything it happened, while Greensleeves was, during those three days, a prominent strain in my chest enough already. The flapping white avine didn't disappear, as I honestly thought it would.
In Seattle I spent a few hours at the museum of mysteries, reading about Seattle's haunted spots, and took to heart the quote: "A ghost is like Santa Clause, if you want to believe in him, you will get a Christmas gift." I want to see a ghost, I really do. I wondered about why my mother never worried that I took such comfort in a graveyard as a child, telling her that when I die I would only want a heart shaped headstone, always requesting a visit to the cemetary for Monday family nights, in fact, consoling my childish concerns of moving into a semi-impoverished neighborhood by cooing: "But Rachael, it is right across from the graveyard!" As a parent, would I worry about this fixation? I guess that I wouldn't, as i'm aware that the allure of the graveyard to a child, is essentially that of a park. How did the cemetary ever become a center of morbidity, anyhow? It clearly sets an alluring tone. One of pure lack of strife, end of toil, and so forth. The only spa retreat that really counts, the only r and r that really matters, so on and on. Anyways, I think that is all.
57 years, 2 weeks, and 2 days