somethings missing.....

got a hair cut saturday.... all i can say is i was in another world hence the shortness. i cant remember the last time my hair was this short. i think cutting 3 inches of hair off is like cutting a finger off. ha not sure what the exact amount of inches we are talking about here. but it feels super nice, perhaps i needed it cut. it will grows back :( or at least that's what i tell myself when i somethings missing...

silence

silence between two people can be awfully loud.

perhaps this is old and i dont feel like revising it at the moment but here is my tiny revision from the day i wrote it. the other is nice because its to the point but i feel this one has something as well.

Her thoughts never speak

It's growing colder…
She yearns for his attention…
She questions her decisions…
She misses his smile…
She misses his touch…
Would it be different…
Should she have let things stay as they were...
Will this feeling go away…
Better to hurt now, better to hurt later.
When she's in his presence she holds back her tears.
Swallowing tightly trying to disengage her mind from the unpleasant events she has put into motion.
Her mind wanders.
His desolate living room had an array of items haphazardly lying around. A couple white shirts lay in a pile on the couch. Three note pads stacked twisted on the floor by his desk. The distant scribbles she could not read.
A lone receipt lying on the floor by the coffee table.
What did he buy? Was he thinking of her.
Why was he on her mind endlessly, with little to no interruption…
Even with this moment in time that she has gotten to be once more be by his side she panders endlessly.
Wishing she could stay, wishing the moments didn't pass as they did. With each dismal second she’s biding her time till she knows it’s too awkward to stay.
The moment arises it’s time to leave. She slips on her pants one leg at a time. Buttons up her blouse tiding up her vest making sure it’s not crooked. She bends, picks up her bag and walks towards the door.
Wishing he wanted to kiss her passionately against the door not letting her turn the knob to leave.
Wishing as they headed down the stairs he'd grab her and take her in his arms, carrying her back up the steps that took them winding farther and father away from one another.
Wishing as she would.
Wishing he wouldn't let her get on the train.
They stand there on the busy corner admiring each other . His concave chest tightly wrapped with his red t-shirt. Her eyes focused on his, pupils dilating.
He grins, teeth showing, kisses her lightly.
The sky is overcast.
They're fingers tangled together, slowly separate, finger by finger letting go.
She pulls him back in and kisses him holding the back of his neck, fingers in between blades of hair.
She knows when they depart they will be strangers once more.
His grocery receipts, a crease in his shirt, the way he walked home that night, who he saw, who he was with, whether he laughed, whether he cried, whether he missed her, whether he was happy, what he read, what he put off to do tomorrow, all a mystery.

Her thoughts never spoken

It’s growing colder…
She yearns for his attention…
She questions her decisions…
She misses his smile…
She misses his touch…
Would it be different…
Should she have let things stay as they were...
Will this feeling go away…
Better to hurt now, better to hurt later.
When she’s in his presence she holds back her tears.
Swallowing tight trying to disengage her mind from the unpleasant thoughts.
Her mind wanders.
She thinks about a receipt lying on the floor.
What did he buy, was he thinking of her.
Why was he on her mind endlessly, with little to no interruption…
Even with this moment in time that she has gotten to be once more be by his side she wonders endlessly.
Wishing she could stay, wishing the moments didn’t pass as they did.
Wishing he wanted to kiss her passionately against the door not letting her turn the knob to leave.
Wishing as they headed down the stairs he’d grab her and take her in his arms, carrying her back up the steps that took them winding farther and father away from one another.
Wishing as she would.
Wishing he wouldn’t let her get on the train.
They stand there, eyes locked.
He grins, teeth showing, kisses her lightly.
They’re fingers tangled together, slowly separate, finger by finger letting go.
She pulls him back in and kisses him holding his head, fingers in between blades of hair.
She knows when they depart they will be strangers once more.
His grocery receipts, a crease in his shirt, the way he walked home that night, who he saw, who he was with, whether he laughed, whether he cried, whether he missed her, whether he was happy, what he read, what he put off to do tomorrow, all a mystery.

Doctors pay attention

So i went to the doctor... seems it couldnt have been the chicken, my reaction was too fast for it to have been the chicken... it turns out it was the naproxen... apparently they shouldnt prescribe naproxen to people with gi problems. big slip up for a doctor if you ask me. so no more naproxen for me.

i'll live.

dont let strangers touch open cuts

i under cooked some chicken i made tonight, it looked cooked but i thought it looked a tad pink. this is a first. i've never had under cooked chicken or made it. i questioned it but ate it anyway. rather then doing the safe thing and putting it in for more time. so i suppose it wasnt a surprise when i got sick immediatly after eating.

i didnt start seeing a shrinky dink. i didnt start going to yoga like i said i would. but i did go for acupuncture. sometimes i say things i have every intention to follow through on and then something happens and i dont. perhaps these things seperate the lazy from the driven.

there is something to be said... but some things are better left unsaid.