I had an update and I was so proud of myself because it was deep and emotionally stirring and it was going to inspire you to go out and MAKE something of yourselves.... But Diaryland is a two-dollar whore and made me wait until I forgot it all. Bastards.

Some of it had to do with the fact that I'm reading Black Like Me at work and I'm gathering the 400-years-old rage within myself and pushing it onto the patrons when they look through or past me when I greet them hullo and grin like a toothpaste ad. But I always feel more alive when I'm surrounded in silty prose and I love when books take over my life like that. And I've gotten so good at hearing people approach I'm like a smiley book ninja. I like the late night patrons the best even though sometimes they stand too close and make jokes that border inappropriate.

Maybe I'm just more comfortable around drunks.

I had a scary realization tonight that I'm not going to share but just know that I'm glad my sense of self control is exordinately overbearing. Strong to the point of repressive. I feel like it might be a good thing.

P.S. Today was the longest day of the year. I found it significant (ironic) that I was working. Life is a laugh.

ink :: graphite