it's much cozier here now, is it not? i'd like to think so. cozy is such a languid word, it makes me want winter so badly--wearing my pumpkin hat and peeling layer upon layer of clothes off once i get inside to a warm, cozy, cider-smelling home.
these days i don't really know what to do with my time. i shouldn't waste it, but i'd waste it even more if i just sat here thinking about what to do rather than just doing whatever comes to mind. i'm afraid to go into a coffee shop on smith street. really, i swear i've walked by it at least 5 different times and told myself to go in and then my legs just keep up the bouncy pace that have propelled them thus far and i keep walking, looking back, wishing i had gone in, but being whip-lashed forward by the pace of my swift steps.
the neighborhood is lovely these days. i have to keep reminding myself to slow down when i'm walking, especially when i have nowhere to go and no one to be with. it's that simple--why can't i stop hurrying through life. i become antsy, agitated when i slow down and allow the gaze of strangers to see me slowly sauntering down the uneven sidewalks. walking past stoops of perching old women i smile gently and quickly look down if their gaze catches mine without returning a painted on smile. i'm afraid i'm being judged, a swift brush of my hair out of my face and a hurried jolt of energy into my step should reassure them that their unreturned looks meant nothing to me. but that's all a lie.
it's funny being up here pretty much alone. it's not lonely, it's a displaced, unsettling feeling that hooks deep down in my core and shakes me when i'm least expecting it. this life feels so much like plaster sometimes, so crumbly and replicative of something more alive, more urgent, hotter, lovelier, more enchanting. hrm. the things i think when i sit in my bed at night and just let my mind go. it's weird. i miss the promenade, maybe i'll saunter down there tomorrow and go out of my way to crunch the first leaves that have fallen from the trees along the little brownstone streets.
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4 comments:
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i like your imagery a lot with the pumpkin hat.
and your language is very...languid. i liked that word.
this was just really novelic sounding, more like a character speaking in a book, rather jessika speaking in jessika's journal.
and i like the way your blog looks now.
if i were you, i'd try to write something less along the lines of a journal entry. at least one. though, if you prefer not to, understandable. i would just really like to see you put together something that shows a lot of who a character is and imagery. you're really good with imagery and you're really good at making a character remind the reader perfectly of someone they may know in real life.
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