Miracle-Signs

I woke up at 5:30 (after seven hours' sleep, it seems to be automagic), put the laundry on, went back to sleep, woke up just now, looked out the window... and I want nothing more than to go running in that beautiful, beautiful blue clear morning. So I will.

Now where are my running shoes? This is gonna hurt tomorrow.

Mrrr

So run, food with friends, wander and talks with friends, call and plans with more friends... and...

THE ICE STORM OF THE APOCALYPSE DOWNTOWN!

How can it not be a good day? Also removal from the vicious-gossip circle makes everything rosy-happy-beautiful. Like there's a magnolia open at UBC, all the way open! The daffodils are totally up! I have a shirt that says requires human sacrifice. on the back! My hair is blue! I could get a vertical labret piercing if I felt like it, anytime! Or a septum, or redo my bridge! I work outdoors and I love it! My friends are willing to both speak their mind plainly to me even when I won't like it, and do it with reasonable tact and then shut up and let me think about it! I have learned to keep it in my pants and not use sex as a lure of any sort because I think people won't love me if I don't wave it in their face! I can be companionable and friendly and people want to be that with me! I can be companionable and friendly all by myself or with my rats and not need other people! Drinking two liters of water made my incipient sore throat go away!

There's more, but this is getting to me, even, and I'm the one writing it. So! Many! Exclamation! Marks!

Absolutely Heartbreaking (read this poem to yourself, out loud, from the beginning)

You Are Jeff

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You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.

Richard Siken