to_me_it_is_not nomme addressed 030817 ... jane something important, or something i want to talk about. 030817 ... . . 050607 ... palm To me it is not just some random event or occasion. Some unimportant happening. It is real. And it is wonderful. And I need it. 050607 ... three hopeful thoughts to me, it is not okay. Sabine will make me a double iced mocha to go, please, thanks, after I've walked from the busstop (having pressed the crosswalk button, having said thankyou to the bus driver upon my stumbled departure). I'll step out onto the back patio to sit in the shade at a high table so that I can write or read, and smoke. Maybe a couple of strangers that I should know will be on the couch talking about their lives or someone elses. I'll try to look very absorbed in my book, cigarette and coffee (or letter, cigarette, and coffee as it may be). I won't want to seem like a threat to their conversation. I won't want to eaves drop, but it will be hard not to. I'll feel bad for existing in their space--as it IS theirs. Two of them, one of me. I'll drink a quarter of the mocha before I check my watch or cellphone for the third time and discover that its time for work. I'll stuff everything into my purse, which really needs to be bigger, and make my way through the sun and past the ice machine, back into the shop, where I will say goodbye to sabine if she is looking in my direction. (otherwise I'll just leave, because its embarrassing to say goodbye too quietly and not be heard by the barista but instead a random customer who notices that I didn't say goodbye loud enough and I'm one of those awkward people who have to really PLAN saying goodbye casually) I'll be the first one to work, and it will feel good. The store will be too hot and still, but instead of turning on the cooler right away, I'll pull out the money for the register and start counting nickels,then dimes, quarters, dollars, fives, and maybe tens. I'll talk to coworkers and customers throughout the day--maybe the girl at hippie gypsy if I need cigarettes, or Ed at the Co-op if he is working and if I need lunch. I'll feel like its ME talking maybe four times throughout the day. otherwise, none of my exchanges feel real. I am just a layer of skin. Its nice to kiss Him in the car when he picks me up. After feeling so far away from myself all day, wondering where I went and why...it feels good to just like another person and know that they like me back, and they knew me before I forgot who I was. To me, it is not okay. this is no longer okay, I'm sorry I couldn't have been better to myself. 050607 what's it to you? who go blather from