2.15.05

the daffodils are blooming here. have bloomed. bloomed in the second week of february. the crocuses bloomed in the first week, big sheets of purple and yellow and blue and white scattered through the parks. the trees have real buds on them. it's strange to be surprised by the seasons; i'm used to knowing their chronology like the back of my hand. i'm missing pussywillows and the sharp smell of early march.

i repeat my thoughts over and over these days, telling them to the different people who are important. emails, letters, phone calls; the same thoughts come out, getting more refined each time. i have a very solid idea of what i'm feeling at any given moment because of this. while i write letters, i wonder if, years down the line, they will be discovered by someone and my process of self-discovery will be apparent. sending out pieces of myself all over the world.

there are good things here; there is still no home here, and there may not ever be. it would be nice to have a home and so have a place to take the good things at the end of the day.

i might go to italy with kevin; it might be alright. really, i would just like a home populated with people i love.

i am, in any event, moving through time.