(no subject)

I don't understand where autumn came from. It feels like the dead leaves are still last year's, like there was never a chance to clear them from the ground. What happened? How did I miss so much? I forget sometimes that while I'm passing through life, life's passing me by. I expect things to pause for me, and then I get confused when they don't.

It's windy today. Not so much blowing as heavily sighing, and when you're over-identifying with the weather you know you must be ill. I'm ill. My head's working all crazy. I'm shaking and electric, trying to stay still and unable to move. I should be in bed, but bed is overrated. There are people I have to talk to to feel human, to feel okay. I feel okay. I'm still breathing, right?

Right?

The sun is gonna go soon, and I forgot to see it. A summer without a trip to the beach is sad. Without a trip to the park is just pathetic. My arms hurt. I feel like I'm having to hold them back from something, like without my control they'd be flailing madly. Tense and aching. I feel like I should be having more trouble typing this. My brain is foggy and strange. It feels unfamiliar. Like doors have opened, only I can't really see behind them. I guess I'll have to see if they're still open when the mist clears. I feel like I'm on the edge of some discovery about myself.

I feel like I'm talking bollocks.

Does this make any sense? I genuinely don't know. I can't remember what I've written, which is interesting, but interesting in a blank minded kind of way because I can't remember what I've written. Which is interesting.

Strangely enough, this is me when I've actually *had* sleep.

I think I'm ill.

on Olives

I use to be younger than I am now. It's hard to believe.

That sounds ridiculous, so let me 'splain. It's hard to imagine knowing any less than I know now, just as it's hard to imagine my ever changing or learning, even though it happens every day. I can't conceive of knowing more than I do... or at least, I can conceive of it in an abstract way- one day I will know more- rather than in a specific way- one day, I will know this.

In a time when I was younger and thoroughly more innocent, I used to drink swimming pool water. It wasn't always intentional- it often involved the spitting of said water at various siblings in order to make them squeal. Chlorine tasted alright, though.

As far as the sea went... I didn't know, back then, about the various sewage, pollution, dead fish and smelly people that shared my bathing water. I was more naive and, cliche as it is to say, life was easier. I didn't worry so much. I was quite capable of wandering up to random strangers and starting conversations with them. I made friends on the beach that were friends for life... or at least, until the evening and home time, and isn't that almost the same thing at six? All I wanted in the world was an ice cream, and to ride the trolley car up to the top of the cliff rather than have to walk back to the car. I built sand castles, and chased the waves, and ran and squealed and believed my dad really was asleep as I dumped bucket fulls of damp sand all over him. He made me into a mermaid, once, so it was only fair. I was happy, all those summer days.

Now I swim with my mouth closed.

Olives taste like the sea. That strange taste in the back corners of your mouth, salt and wet but happier than tears... that's what olives taste like. They taste like childhood summer days. And that, Sophie m'dear, is why I fancied an olive at five o'clock this morning.

Anyone have any burning questions? About life, the universe, how lightbulbs work, why your teeth fit together at the back? I can't promise I'll know the answer, but by god I'll lie with panache.