Music: This Love by Craig Armstrong
Previous - this entry written on June 16, 2007 at 7:17 am - Next
Getting close to 7:30...
...and I'm still awake, still on the edge of a pretty serious anxiety attack, still frustrated and confused and wanting more than anything else to find some safe place to curl up and hide for a while. Right now, my own home doesn't even feel safe.
I know one place that would, but... getting to it when I'm not supposed to be driving and dun' have cash for bus fare is a bit tricky - it's nearly downtown, I'm way the fuck out in Gresham. I think tonight I need to go there, hang out for an hour or two. Get rid of all this negativity. I could take a bottle of cheap wine, a couple candles, maybe a blade... have a nice little ceremony out in the darkness, under the trees, in the one place in all of Portland where I know I'll feel at peace, if I go there alone. I dun' think the place particularly likes Kate or Torian - Kate it'll tolerate unless she's taking pictures, and Torian doesn't like it, so of course it doesn't like her. Me... I feel safe there. I feel comfortable and comforted. I feel like I could just curl up beside the iron gate or against one of the huge trees or even sprawl on one of the larger stones, and just... be. No stress. No worries. Nothing but me touching the earth and the sky, knowing that things beyond my perception are standing guard.
Hell, I may go there during the day, even. I really can't take being here. It's not working out well today.
Time to go see about packing a picnic.
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