Tuesday, February 24, 2004

The Cloud is back.

The Cloud of Womanly Uncertainty that I so yearned for those weeks back has returned, in full force, and I realize: I have assimilated all the information I need from it anyway, it’s just hanging there, dense and yet empty, lighter than air and heavier than a ton of bricks. It’s invisible, on another plane, and the embodiment of my shell that keeps me from interacting with anyone.

Fuck this, man. I’m joining that local stitch and bitch I saw at the bookstore once. I can’t stitch, but I can sure bitch, and I’m sure those nice women in hand-me-down Birkenstocks will show me how to work the needles. It’s about fucking time I deemed myself worthy of interaction with other women.

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