PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

reality

Tuesday, Sept. 17, 2002
For some reason strangers always decide to trust me. I don’t know why, but they do. I dropped a few lines in a guestbook where I asked about a guy’s movie transcript. He sent me the link to it. It looks amazing. I can’t wait to read all 99 pages of it. I’ve never thought of writing a transcript for a movie. Imagine that. I don’t know how old he is, but I think it’s an amazing achievement. He’s now filming this movie. And he trusted me to read it all in text.

I’m still trying to decipher how husband can get up out of bed at 5 a.m. and have somewhere legit to go. All dressed up with excuses.

Sometimes I swear I can hear myself breaking.

These are the bridges that lead me to places I shouldn’t even know about.

Places that should only exist in movies.

Not reality.

Seeing him move around the bedroom in the dark trying not to wake me, while I squeeze tears out of my eyes…

is reality…
10:08 a.m. ::
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