futurebird's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
23 years of breathing
I should be in bed right now. I'm not. I'm sitting up with circles of sleep around my eyes listening to a woman sobbing or singing on the street. I don't even look out the window and the sound of her voice fades away and she walks on. A car passes. A horn honks. I can hear crickets. They chirp fast. It is hot.
I'm going to go to Cleveland soon. I'm not thrilled about the trip, but I need to touch base with my folks. I don't think I'm a very nice person to have as a daughter. I want too show how grateful I am for all of the help my parents give me but I don't know how.
My birthday is on Aug. 19th... Monday. 23 years of breathing in and out. I think I can safely shake off any remaining notions that I'm still a child. We begin to age at 24. So this is it: the end of my youth.
Good Riddance.
The charts say I'll live to be 70, but I think 45 is more like it considering I have no intention of quitting smoking. 22 more years to go. Breathe Deep.
keepon.html - 2002-08-14
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------