A Rose By Any Other Name
There's something eminently cleansing about having your hands in dirt~at least for me. At a time when so little seems to make sense to me, and my mind is again on hiatus, I get satisfaction and relief by digging in the soil.
The yard abounds with pretty flowers and rocks; it looked ok before, but it looks much better now. Nary a stray leaf lays in the planters. How would it dare? I work myself to exhaustion, because it's the only way my mind will stop the wild ramblings of the mad. It's rarely been this bad for so long. Usually I can find SOME form of relief, but these days, if I'm not working, insanity creeps in within minutes. I must keep working, working, working. Don't stop. Dig, plant, rake. Change something. Weed, water, replant again. Do household chores then start it all again.
The frustration I feel this time is that I cannot escape. Each time I stop working, that insanity jumps in: mania, in it's most irritating, agitating form.
posted by Meggy @ 11:41 PM
2 Comments:
Did you remember your sunscreen?
Last summer when I was quite huge and staying in Utah, my yard went to pot and weeds. And not in the good drug type way either. I've been busily restoring my sad patch of grass.
Been busy reporting pedophiles on myspace. This makes me happy in a lot of ways. Yesterday's has a thing about being turned on by teen facial expressions when they describe the stresses of their newfound sexuality and it's consequences. He likes to share so it has a voyeur exhibitionism element to it. He's creepy as hell.
I am not sane enough yet to blog.
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