One of Those Nights

Its one of those nights. To explain what I mean before I just start to write whatever pours from my finger tips to free my head of the thoughts that are caused by nights like this I would like to reproduce a few of my recent AIM away messages. They are as follows:
And the onset of yet another sleepless night creeps up on me and i yell at my play, which i've learned doesn't help. the night is warm maybe i'll go for a walk outside. the summer night's calling my name.
I like hot summer. i like when its so hot that you can feel the air press up against every inch of you. it makes me feel safe, like the world is giving my a big hug. i don't need to hide because everyone cares. then hot summer nights pillow me in their warm touch and i don't need to sleep and i don't need to cry. i love hot balmy summer night and i love afternoon showers in the heat and i love waking up in that coating of sweat and i love feel warm and hugged by the world.
And onward to the ramblings that are Morrigana.
So many ideas are flooding my thoughts right now that i'm scared if i start writing about one i'll lose the others adn never return to them and leave a million loose ends. I'm trying to get this in this blog to tie together neatly in a package. To mean something cohesive, but the more I try the more I fail and the more I realize that life itself doesn't tie neatly into a package, so why should my blog? And why does it need to tie up now? The tieing up can wait until my life has an end in sight and I need to tie things up to not leave a mess for the rest of the world, if I'm so lucky. I hope to leave the world a better place then i was born into. I try to pick up other people's trash and clean up my own messes. But the world is so big and there is so much trash out there that I get overwhelmed and on night like this it doesn't matter any more, as long as I'm good, then the world is good. But its also on nights like this that i'm not sad and i stay awake thinking and i can't stop the thought from coming and i don't sleep, but it doesn't matter. I don't feel tired from my thoughts they refresh me and invigorate me and help me live better. i love to walk. it is my new favorite thing to do on warm summer afternoons and nights when the rest of the world is relaxed. its so beautiful. i just walk and walk and i see new things and i hear people and connect with the world. i had always wondered why people were so crazy about the ipod and had suddenly come to realize the desire. you can have all your music, all in one small devise that you can take places. With CD's you need to bring each one and they are heavy, or you make mixes, but either way there are limits. With an ipod the only limit is the megabit and you can always delete bad songs. But today as i was walking through the village and watching the people and their dogs and the trees, i realized ipods cut you off from all of that. you exist in your little ipod world, where everything is governed by the sound of the song. its like wearing sunglasses for me. I started doing that recently in an attempt to protect me eyes, because i do bad things to them, like typing and reading late at night. Also they look pretty cool and i can look at people and they don't always know. It also makes it easier to ignore catcalls. Anway, I realize that like the my sunglasses the ipod filters the world for the wearer. As i realized this, walking through the village. I took off my sunglasses and put them in my bag. I saw the world better.
Then i got ice cream, because it was free cone day at ben and jerry's. the line moved really fast, but my brain did this nice thing where it suddenly made me aware of every inch of fat on my body. I told it to shut up and look at the flowers. I was going to get my ice cream and enjoy it. Which i did. I walked through Washington Square park and remembered my camera. i took pictures of flowers and nothing. then a tourist couple asked me to take their picture. I wish i could have found the zoom. but they didn't speak english and i they didn't say enough for me to recognize which language they spoke. I think i speak it too though, well a small bit of it. I was able to use french, spanish and italian at work the other day. i was so proud. i hope to minor in linguistics. As i was walking along the bloominb tree lined streets i want The Boy. I just wanted him to walk beside me and hold my hand and reassure me that the trees are beautiful. I almost called him, but i was too scared. I don't know why I'm still scared to call and ask him things. Somewhere deep inside i think i know he wouldn't refuse the request to see him, unless he was very busy, because we are good at distracting each other. In the park the most beautiful trees are in bloom. I'm not sure what they are, but they look like they should bare fruit when the blossoms are gone. As i was standing beneath one of the trees and the small white, pink edged petals fell all around me i was struck with an interesting thought. I want these flowers at my wedding and i want my wedding in the early spring. I never think about myself in conjuction to marriage. i just dont. I'm the girl the phrase "always a brides maid, never a bride" will apply to. the only vision I had of my own wedding, was going to the court house to file the necessary legal documents. I've always wondered why i thought that was marriage. I've only every been to two weddings. The first one was very small. If was beautiful. It was in my own back yard and my father was the officer of the peace presiding. He has the legal right to marry people. he actually married himself. By that i mean he was the person who over saw the wedding, where he was also the groom. The second wedding was in a church and there was a reception afterwards. Very traditional, very formal. I always feel awkward at things like that, maybe thats why i don't want one. i liked the back yard ceromony it was beautiful. I probably remember it more beautiful then it was. But the beauganvillia wasin full bloom and it was lush and green. I miss the messy lush garden of my old house. The new garden is more dry, more designed. There was a quaint organic feel to the old one. Like if grew up from the earth and became a garden. The ground was always soft and moist, even where the grass wore away it was moist, but never muddy. Maybe that's why I was so unhappy for so long. the garden seemed so made. the whole house seemed so made. i wanted something more organic again. maybe the transition wasn't as easy for me as i thought it was. maybe i didn't show my anger for leaving my childhood fantasy land and moving into a new house that we had just built, from the remenants of an old house. maybe i pent up my anger and then it came pouring out, years later with each small pebble slowly gathering until they avalanched and i was incapacitated. I guess i'll never know. that was another me and we don't know each other anymore. Sometimes i miss her, or parts of her. I miss her faith in things, really faith and trust. I have faith and i have trust, but i know in the cave in my heart, that they might fail me and i have other options. i miss her passion. i have passion, but its not so blind. I'm also now, starting to miss her ability to love. For so long i told myself i could not love. the emotion was bad for me. I was right. Love was too complicated for me to feel at the time. I would get lost in it. So i convinced myself it didn't exist. that love was a lie. now i believe it and i know i can't love any more. I can't love was recklessly. I wish I could. I think The Boy desires that, but i think that kind of love might scare him, just as much as it once scared me. I scared me so much i banished it from my heart and now there isn't a place for it there anymore. Love has fled. Love is gone. But i can care and i know when i should love someone. I can tell where that emotion is missing. I thinking sleeping with someone you care about deeply, maybe even love, is the most beautiful thing ever. And by sleeping, i actually mean sleep, closing your eyes and traveling into the unconscious. it requires so much trust and honesty and bravery. it is so beautiful. I think there is a difference between having sex with some one, making love to them and sleeping with them. The last two are very similar, but the first one is raw almost brutal. The first time The Boy and I had sex, after i had to go back to my bed to sleep. He said I could stay and spend the time, but i was scared. Sex, sure. Sleeping, no. I wasn't ready. It was a scary proposal. Things have changed since then. Sleeping with The Boy is so peaceful and so easy. We have complete honesty and even in sleep we almost understand each other. One night i just woke up, for no reason and slowly turned and saw he was awake too. We had both been asleep, but we woke up. Later he said he was just looking at me sleep and that i looked so peaceful. Normally, someone looking at you while, you sleep is creepy, but it was so sweet. he said he was looking at me and he just wanted to kiss me. We didn't sleep anymore that night. We just held each other. he is so warm. I love the heat and the warmth of him. I only like natural heat sources, which i believe are the sun, the center of the earth and other people. that is the kind of heat i need and i can never get enough. The Boy always says the most beautiful things to me. They are simple and pure and so beautiful. I wish i could put the beauty of his words in a little box and wear it around my neck. Then i would never lose those words and i could keep them with me forever. i think that's my biggest fear right now, not having him any more. I think that's why the prospect of summer is LA was so ugly. It seems alright now, long and incertain, but not so scary. I'll have My Boy here waiting for me, but I wont keep him waiting forever. one day i suppose i'll have to share him and let him go on to something better. i'm not a future, i'm just a place to spend sometime in the present.