RainyCoast

and my third floor window shakes from the vibration when they slam their car doors outside. (is it me? isn't this really wayyy to loud? *plays whitenoise* )

and they walk so loudly too. thump thump thump stomp stomp stomp. jeez. it still works if you do it normally ya know?

i'm easily annoyed with noises today. someone talking loudly on the stairway, lawnmower outside, traffic...

Have another pear pie, you! WORLD

oh!! and thanks!! forgot i got the answer to that! o

i can't believe it. three years. that can't be?! still feels so fresh and raw. i remained frozen in that still mum, the medlar tree cut down to a stump.

[video=youtube;xnIyOwgnITo]

seriously i'm going to put on a rain storm recording, i can't take this effing happy annoying sunshine much longer.

blizzard...damn! it's so nice and spring-y here. too nice and spring-y. i need more gloom to match my inner cynic and make me feel less *****y for being perpetually half-depressed. daffodils and violets all over the place and all that . like, go away, you pretty happy a-holes.

suddenly i'm getting all this acne. go away, lil' areseholes.

...... Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow, (This- all this- was in the olden Time long ago,) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away. ..... -The Haunted Palace, Edgar Allan Poe

headache. i always feel like complaining about headaches shows a very low frustration tolerance. but they are so annoying.

mum i could use some help deciding whether to switch to private practice. not really sure i want to be staying if A isn't suspended, so it would be between the new offer or back to the institute. possibly great versus old but safe. kinda need to decide by april. also, staying despite A*does* benefit everyone else, and i'm beyond feeling upset about her in the least...so...? i have a nagging suspicion that A will be history before april though. it would take some sort of magic for that not to happen.

good night mum. i love you. if you drop by tonight, clear the cloud of doubt away for me. i will act with certainty.

eff you, wisdom tooth.

there he goes. i'm told Salvatore has arrived. i hope it was a pleasant journey.

Protecting every animal changes humanity. MOUSE

ugh. got a call from Jo. she has nerve. grrr how did you handle stuff like this. i think mostly you didn't. you carried it around.

Salvatore is coming to heaven mum. Thought i'd give you a headsup if you want to meet him. He was delirious last night, calling his mum and wife and aunt and Paolo. He mentioned Christ repeatedly. I never knew he was religious, but on the brink of mortal existence, how can one not be.I went to calm him and he relaxed, then in the morning he told me "I saw everything white". He said it twice, wideyed. Since, he is unable to speak, open his eyes, stay awake...or anyting. I have been following the phases closely, i really think this is it, and i even told E in september he wouldn't make it till the end of winter. His son and cousin V see it too. Jo insists otherwise, for reasons you know. Doc said nothing specific. You saw the stuff that had me desperate this week. So, i've been teary to begin with. And now with him leaving, and yesterday being two years since you left, well, it's been a big crying spell. I am reminded of you and nonna and dad and granddad and Chris and the baby. And the terrifying lives we lead, and the ways in which you left. I am brutal with myself for not handling the collosal compounded terror and loss well, as if it is an irresponsible thing to feel like it' s humanely too much to cope with. And as if i don' t deserve to feel the injustice of it, or say it. And i'm annoyed with the million ways in which people can ask the are you still not done with it question. Or maybe with myself for hearing it in every how are you. He is right. God is near. You don't have to stand on his doorstep to know he is. His son is there with him tonight. Soon, his mum, wife, Paolo will all be there with him. I will go to sleep now like you were right here, and nonna, and god. And when i am questioned for the labored way of getting over it, i will shrug it off. If being good is just a matter of words and pretence, then being bad is no more than that too. Smile when petty little stones are cast. What would they know. Of love that's found in austerity, purity in squalor, of greatness found in bits.

We have a soul at times. No one’s got it non-stop, for keeps. Day after day, year after year may pass without it. Sometimes it will settle for awhile only in childhood’s fears and raptures. Sometimes only in astonishment that we are old. It rarely lends a hand in uphill tasks, like moving furniture, or lifting luggage, or going miles in shoes that pinch. It usually steps out whenever meat needs chopping or forms have to be filled. For every thousand conversations it participates in one, if even that, since it prefers silence. Just when our body goes from ache to pain, it slips off-duty. It’s picky: it doesn’t like seeing us in crowds, our hustling for a dubious advantage and creaky machinations make it sick. Joy and sorrow aren’t two different feelings for it. It attends us only when the two are joined. We can count on it when we’re sure of nothing and curious about everything. Among the material objects it favors clocks with pendulums and mirrors, which keep on working even when no one is looking. It won’t say where it comes from or when it’s taking off again, though it’s clearly expecting such questions. We need it but apparently it needs us for some reason too. Wislawa Szymborska

I believe in the great discovery. I believe in the man who will make the discovery. I believe in the fear of the man who will make the discovery. I believe in his face going white, His queasiness, his upper lip drenched in cold sweat. I believe in the burning of his notes, burning them into ashes, burning them to the last scrap. I believe in the scattering of numbers, scattering them without regret. I believe in the man’s haste, in the precision of his movements, in his free will. I believe in the shattering of tablets, the pouring out of liquids, the extinguishing of rays. I am convinced this will end well, that it will not be too late, that it will take place without witnesses. I’m sure no one will find out what happened, not the wife, not the wall, not even the bird that might squeal in its song. I believe in the refusal to take part. I believe in the ruined career. I believe in the wasted years of work. I believe in the secret taken to the grave. These words soar for me beyond all rules without seeking support from actual examples. My faith is strong, blind, and without foundation. . Wislawa Szymborska

ouch, careful, i once hurt my tailbone quite bad skidding on ice. it's ripping out trees now. some places have a power black out.

it hasn't snowed. i'm off to italy tomorrow, maybe it'll snow there. i don't want lots of it, i'd just like to see a few snowflakes. the darn wind'll break my shutters.

the wind is getting very strong, it's still unusually cold and they said it might snow tonight. it rarely snows here. im wrecked from nightshift but i want to stay up to hopefully see the snowflakes. the last time i saw them they started falling all of a sudden at the moment the priest was done speaking and my mother's urn was lowered into the ground.

that's reassuring. heal well.