Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free.

in time of daffodils by E. E. Cummings

in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me,remember me

I have all this creativity inside of me, unfortunately there is something blocking the way out. I feel so lazy lately; a numbness. Its hard to describe. I see everything I have /need /want to do but I’m letting it slip away from me. The longer I take the more guilty and ashamed I feel and I do… nothing. I watch it fade away… and add it to that growing list of ghosts.

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I’m always stuck in the middle, wondering if my feelings are spot on or over exaggerated. Is there a reason for this worry; jealousy? Is she hitting on you or am I over protective? Will I sound crazy if I ask or justified? Will this cause an awkwardness? Am I over thinking it? I never want to open my mouth in fear that I’m wrong, I don’t want to be THAT girlfriend. I don’t want to push you away but I don’t want to turn a blind eye either. Its so frustrating.

Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat.

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She was sitting up now. My arm was around her and she was leaning back against me, and we were quite calm. She was looking into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else’s eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of so many things.

“And there’s not a damn thing we could do,” I said. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to go through that hell again.” “We’d better keep away from each other.” “But, darling, I have to see you. It isn’t all that you know.” “No, but it always gets to be.” “That’s my fault. Don’t we pay for all the things we do, though?”

She had been looking into my eyes all the time. Her eyes had different depths, sometimes they seemed perfectly flat. Now you could see all the way into them.

I feel incredibly sad of late. I don’t know how to be or act. Taking deep breaths all the time. I keep giving James dead eyes, he says. I guess becase I feel dead.