live and let die
somewhat ill, sniffling.
threw up three times yesterday.
came to work today.
have eaten, in the past 48 hours: a few crackers, some raisins at 3:00 a.m.; oatmeal; oatmeal cream pie (adjacent to oatmeal proper); some rice; a piece of bread.
right before that: four chicken fingers left at room temperature for two hours. i really should know better.
it's not all that bad, really, but i like to make as big a deal of any misfortune that i have as possible.
i keep wanting to fiddle with the appearance of this site; this is tempered with the desire to leave myself able to write here without thinking about bits of html and whatnot. so, nevermind all that.
every now and then, sexual imagery or ideas come floating into my innocent brain via the ear canals, or possibly the eyeballs, and start up a vague sort of churning in the dark depths of my mind. nothing concrete, mind you, but a desire for physical closeness, and the thought of the sensation of skin. it's torturous in a warm, comfortable sort of way. it's the edge of dreams that will not go away. i want it, but i know that i don't want to go out and get it. i want more than that, and i don't want the complexity entailed by a shallow physical relationship.
the physical manufactured the feelings.
no, that's not really true. i suppose that physical intimacy, like alcohol, only helps feelings along, or gives you something to bury yourself in and to forget what you're really thinking and feeling.
but then there's this desire that comes back and comes back, and won't go away.