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| tom dicillo, drowned in sound uk, models, insultingpostcards, moviedatabase, makaveli lyric, true stories, quotations, writing, boobs, there goes the neighborhood, steve, | As I washed my hands, I stared television shows at my reflection. It was one television shows of those mirrors that reflected all angles and I caught a glimpse of my profile as I wiped my hands. In that moment, I stared with the cold television shows objectivity of a passing stranger. Looking at Lara, I felt amused. She stood, so waitressy with her upright posture and her ponytail swinging. Staring without my usual critical scrutiny, I found her to be prettier than I think of myself and younger looking than I feel. A wave of affection enveloped me, as if she was my child, and then I thought, “What a good kid.” After another second of staring I shook it off, reminding myself, “The ‘kid’ is you, Psycho.” |
Best Mature Paysites
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| All of my life this has happened, usually during transitional times. Mostly I enjoy it, seeing it as a moment of writing growth, like I’m uploading new definitions of who I am. Always, I feel that something deeper is stirring within me, something much wiser than writing myself, perhaps something divine. Now, with my road-dog sister moving out to get married and my writing mom dating a 32 year-old (the first guy since my father passed away, and the same age as my last boyfriend), I guess you could say I’m entering a new phase in life. And of course with all this change, I am experiencing that same disconnect with myself. Cocktailing at Zanzibar, a hip, eclectic club in Santa Monica, I had one such moment. Escaping from the crowd, I went to the bathroom to catch my breath. |
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