Yeah pretzels!

I am hot and sweaty and stinky and I have sores on the sides of my feet. I love this feeling. I have to get up at 5:30 tomorrow morning. I can't wait. I love horse shows, and I know I'll have a great time.

Georgia was wonderful, in case you were wondering. I was so happy, except for the last night when I remembered that I had to go home in the morning. The plane trip back was only one hour and twenty-six minutes! And no, there were no delays. I actually arrived at the gate just as they started to board. I got my fill of "The Life" laying out at the pool and eating out. I even got to taste Chick Filet's famous chicken. And Zaxby's. Why is chicken so popular down there?

I really feel kinda confused. What else is new, right? I feel so insignificant, like there is nothing I can do to change the course of events that starts me rolling down a mountainside with no brakes. Or someone else....

Emmiline told me that I have friends. Well, actually, I told her that I have no friends, and she pointed it out for me. I don't like her. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, I just don't get along with her that well. I resent the fact that I have no friends. I'm going to see a movie by myself tomorrow night. Maybe I'll go with my imaginary bunny friend. Maybe I'll call him Frank.

Savvy?

I am, today, forty dollars richer. That is, in U.S. currency. I would have gladly taken half, or even the whole of it in chocolate. Oh, and maybe a Pink Floyd CD. But despite all of this prosperity, I smell like burning Blue Spruce and newspaper and sap is splotched randomly along my arms and the shirt I have yet refused to change out of. It's about 85 outside, and I am an hour's past a mile walk home. This walk was not terribly enjoyable, what with the traffic and the neighbor's rotten dogs, but it was the relief upon arriving home that I am now content with. I am counting the hours until I board the plane. I am bound and determined to spend my hard earned forty on Starbucks cappiccino and chocolate. I am praying for delays. I will remember to take my new ring with me. And my blue fuzzy pellow. (no, it really is pellow) If the plane decides to take a wrong turn towards Machu Pichu, that would be fine with me, just warn me long enough in advance to pick up enough chocolate to live on till the next flight out. Cheers, mates!

Nickelback: Savin' Me

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

My finger hurts. My right hip hurts. My left thigh hurts. My head hurts. My feet hurt. My lips hurt. My arm hurts. My back hurts.

But most of all, my heart hurts. What joy it would bring to have a free and happy heart. What joy to be free of guilt. To spread my wings and breathe in the air of real happiness. I have this picture in my mind, but the throbbing pain in my body drives me to distraction.

I really don't care to be happy if it requires that I leave my friends behind. They need me. And the calm saddness of the familiar is so much easier to fall asleep with than the thought of leaving someone -anyone- behind to rot in the wasteland alone.

I wish someone could convince me otherwise.

I wish someone could make me believe -not just tell me- that life is worth living.

Rammstein: Klavier

Lyrics ©1997 Rammstein.

Unofficial Translation ©2006 Jeremy Williams.
They tell me
unlock this door
curiosity becomes a scream
what could be behind it
behind this door
stands a piano
the keys are dusty
the strings are out of tune
behind this door
she sits at the piano
but she doesn't play anymore
oh, that was so long ago
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began I held my breath
She said to me
I'll always stay with you
but it only seemed
that she played for me alone
I poured her blood
into the fire of my rage
I locked the door
they asked for her
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
I stood beside her
it seemed
she played for me alone
The door is open
oh, how they scream
I hear mother pleading
father is beating me
they take her from the piano
and no one believes me here
that I am deathly ill
from sorrow and the stench
There, at the piano
I listened to her
and when her performance began
I held my breath
There, at the piano
she listened to me
and when my performance began
she held her breath