*get it right. 2004-03-31 10:32 a.m.*

yesterday i got to olympia and after gleeing at puck for awhile and making out and all of that, we were walking, and skippingly, laughingly, i said, "i was reading sylvia plath's journals and she gave me an idea." of course, considering everything, it wasn't funny.

the topic was changed and i got bitter and it was only changed because it sounded so scary to have a plath-driven idea, after being held and told to stay "here" (as opposed to so many ethereal places i crave escaping to) less than a week ago.

but right now i'm bouncy glowy expansive fullfullfull to exploding with writing and i need to chatter and speak and talk about it. i have to balance the creativity and the love or else i must scamper.

i really need a big field in which to, or a big ocean at which to holler and howl.

*listening to: "in this diary" - the ataris*
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