..::sparkle and fade::..

..::28.06.04::..

the average person only uses their car for an hour out of every twenty-four hours a day. i have a car that sits. it used to be like an extension of myself. you could tell it was loved by the mess that it was. some people would say that’s contradictory, but i think that it’s sort of like your favorite book. i believe in dog-earring those pages that hit me in some way. when they make their mark, i make mine. similarly goes the car. but now as it sits on the side of the road, the clutter inside, the stained seats, and the sticky spots where i’ve taunted the girl with my other love affair, coffee, are just plain sad. it’s depressing to see her sitting there. she doesn’t have local plates yet, and i’m sure the other cars whisper about that. like she’s some sort of foreigner. know that her driver doesn’t take the new curbs as well as she should, because she doesn’t know them yet. and sure, every so often she gets a resurgence in confidence when she’s driven, but that’s usually only once a week at best. and half the time it’s only to move for the street cleaners. even the street is cleaner than she is. and she doesn’t have a name. nothing sounds right. her brakes make groaning noises at first. from moisture i guess. there is a lot of rain here.

hmmm…so yeah. that’s actually what i wrote last week . i was trying to get back into writing. but it’s hard to do that sometimes when what’s going on isn’t so much sharable or maybe the things you’ve been doing just aren’t interesting. i’ve been having a lot of me time lately and it’s nice. a reintroduction to self. i went home over the weekend. that helped break any kind of thought monotony. which is , of course, nice.

i watched two girls romp at the airport. ages: probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 4-6. very cute. perfectly harmless. about to get on a long ass flight to somewhere on the other side of the country. their dad was barking orders from his wheelchair, apparently forgetting what it’s like to be young and free. and forgetting that whatever energy they expended then, would most likely remain on the ground, and wouldn’t follow them into the air. so then the guy sort of herds them into the smallest area and they take out this folder. it’s obviously child made. right here in the u.s. and for once not china. stapled together and completely scribbled on by many many crayons, this folder housed something i can honestly say i’ve never seen before. and maybe that’s because i wasn’t raised with religion. but these two girls whipped out religion flashcards. something they had hand colored. and some of them were really horrifying. when you think of the fact that lots of kids are easily scared and what not. and they were so happy to quiz each other in their boredom. i had a kids bible once that my grandmother gave me. it was illustrated, but it must have been rated pg, because i can’t remember it having anything graphic in it whatsoever.

i sat next to a couple on the plane that was wearing coordinating (not matching) polo shirts. i was trying to read them, without being obvious about it. i didn’t ever make it out and forgot about it. at the end of the flight i was about to close my book when the man asked me if i needed a bookmark. i said sure and he handed me his card. “we’re realtors.” he said. his business card said spouses selling houses. best thing i’ve seen in a long time. and on the back, he informed me, was a tip chart. for that flight i must have had the air of someone who was looking to buy a house. the previous flight i looked like a gwen stefani fan. does anyone else see this as conflicting?

also, apparently i have been dreaming about franzia boxed wine as i was outed talking about my dream. i hate it when i don’t realize something isn’t real. i just looked on the web, and i’m 99.9% sure that this was just a dream as their packaging doesn’t look any different really at all to me, but in my dream it was beautiful. Chris had a good point. what am i doing dreaming about franzia anyway?

and, when i got home the cat was fine. the flight was fine. the train was fine. my apartment was still all there. but the streets were quiet. and the apartment was dark. and my friends were not around. it was lonely.