Saturday, November 23, 2002

'Tomorrow' by The Rocking Horse Winner all over, again.

He told me I was too colorful for that drab painting and I remembered what it was like to be complimented and agree, fully.

She thinks he has a crush on me, and brings out smiles and feelings of beauty and hope and inspiration, that I haven't felt often enough.

Tonight really does feel like color, like blues and pinks and purples and another color that I don't think can quite be described. Everything's just mauvelous [the color really does seem to describe the accent, perfectly], despite a good then bad then better then worse then that amazing flighty feeling that makes me want to have a crush on just the right person and everything's starting to feel again, to feel again and to feel good again. I resolve not to think I am ugly any more, not with all the beauty that comes from me, and I am fully worthwhile. Even when he doesn't see it or she thinks it's silly or I say it's not enough to get by. Enough as is. Maurice says I sound like I had lost myself. I think I have, and we'll blame that on the lack of updates and journals and painting and dreaming and sleep and compliments.

Best compliment of the week, I think. And probably past month:
Potowiskey: i always see the bright you
Potowiskey: even when you are feeling down
Punkyelhsa: really?
Potowiskey: it never stops

Merci beacoup, mes petits infants, pour nous sont plus joli et je nous adore.


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