alright. i'm getting weary of this site and the voice i seem to have gotten here. expect some changes.

"Operation Iraqi Freedom? I don't think so. It was more like Operation Let's Run a Race, but First Let Me Break Your Knees." beautiful.

i went to yoga yesterday, for the first time in months and months and months. yoga was supposed to be one of the things i did regularly this summer (along with swimming, which i haven't kept up, and reading, which i have), but this is the first time i've been. here's the thing about yoga - it's hard, and it's hard in a way that leaves you no mental room to do anything but concentrate on holding

legs twitching from walking in the heat, sweat slicked across lips and hips and neck from same. haze outside the window, room dark with close air that swirls beneath the fan like a lazy finger trailing through soup. feet bare and all my limbs in need of stretching, of working, of cleansing. boxes on the floor waiting to be filled, books on the bed waiting to be read, everything preparing itself.

when i was little, i used to put peanut butter on tortillas, grab a handful of pickles, and read about trixie belden or valedmar, depending on just how little i was. the reading list has changed a bit, but peanut butter tortillas and pickles are still just about the best things ever.

i know it's always dirty, but today the river ran red. not bloodred, not roses. opaque and ugly, like it had rusted all through, full of corruption. i watched the sky for some explanation horsemen or wolfshadow, but it continued on in its blueness, reaching.