i woke up at 10am, read Wacousta for a bit to do my Canadian lit assignment due Wednesday, called Clem, spoke to him til 12pm, then went straight back to bed. i'm so tired, i don't even feel like getting lunch for myself. i think this is the effects of sleep debt. and i thought i'd escaped the sleep debt thing since leaving Singapore for here. who knew that night owl habits would be so hard to break?
so what do i see myself as?
a whirlpool of ripples, breaking up any whole image you might try to see.
a flash of pink on the horizon when i feel good; a smudge of brown in the green grass when i'm sad.
fluffy baby pink socks that feel so good when you slip them on in bed at night.
the scent of jasmine body butter that permeates the room when i unscrew the tub.
gloomy thunderclouds and the splattering rain.
you love me, - you love me not.
but, so you know; i do love you.
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