Sunday, April 15, 2007

word spills

Sometimes,

I wish to never speak again, let all the wasted conversations dissolve into dissipated air.

I wish to gain enough distance between me and my past that I can only view it with a dispassionate calm.

I wish to spend my Sundays reading the New Yorker.

I wish not to feel so disturbed while reading Fitzgerald's biography.

I wish I could remember the things about you that made me feel so happy and to not forget the things about you that made me feel so sad.

I wish that my mind was lucid and precise, and that thinking was as easy as breathing.

I wish I could get enough sleep.

I wish I could remember all the words I really like and I wish I could use those words in perfectly formed sentences.

~instead of spilling words...