"For us, our house is not insentient matter—it has a heart, and a soul, and eyes to see us with; and approvals, and solicitudes, and deep sympathies; it is of us, and we are in its confidence, and live in its grace and in the peace of its benediction. We never come home from an absence that its face does not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome—and we can not enter it unmoved."
—Mark Twain, 1896
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Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Out and proud!

So, you’ve found me out have you? Ok. What do you expect me to say? Do you want an apology? An explanation? You’re right you know. I can’t go one single solitary day without it. And so what? I happen to love the high! I happen to love every lavish feeling of it!

I have a fix every night before I go to sleep, or toss and turn all hours of darkness without it. When I’m alone in daylight hours, I fix around the dictates of my life; around the details that distract me from my oblivion. Do you know how long I’ve been locking the door just to be able to get high? Just to be able to fly away? I love walking along the edge of this paradigm, falling into the realm of another! It is a mind-blowing, marvelous high.
Boorish? Ah no. I think not, my friend!

Oh all right………. Yes, it’s true. I am an addict. There. Are you happy now? I. Am. A. Book-aholic ~ A. word. nerd! Oh. My. Gosh! I actually said it!

This is a new day I tell you! Come on now. Why not just join me? Here, have a taste. You know you want to. It’s freaking awesome on this side.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oh the shame of it all!!! Gina

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