you'll have to trust it

so where do i begin?

i feel almost as if i've been sucker punched. or maybe- and probably more accurately- that i've spent the last five days living instead of participating in life. it's refreshing and lovely on some levels, and postively, absolutely terrifying on others.

friday night and most of saturday defies explaination. a houseguest of anna's suffered from severe alcohol poisioning. use your imagination to imagine a girl in such a state in a living room. you can guess how the room fared, how the people looking after her fared, and how much cleaning there was to do the next day. imagine also, however, that in the midst of this, another girl shows up- one who is stuck in the worst possible way, needing to be somewhere desperately and having no way to be there.

this contributed partly to the madness of those forty eight hours. not only was i vomited on [by two different people- but the second time just involved astronomically bad timing on the parts of morgen and i], but i also drove tuesday to peterborough, and then myself back to ottawa on next-to zero hours of sleep in a borrowed car. and then, in less than eight hours, i found myself on a bus to toronto to try to spend some kind of quality time with my siblings, which included sneaking swedish berries from the cupboard to watching knights joust at medieval times.

i feel washed out. pale. worn thin like old jeans in a small town.

there's something about days like these ones that just make the following time seem strange- odd things highlighted in a most peculiar way. songs take on meanings that they probably don't have, pictures capture attention spans for longer than necessary, and scents that aren't really there hang like wisps of silk in the air.

i've lost all the proper words i need in the past few days.

i think i like this.