I've got some real estate here in my bag...

I think my sister is psychic, because just after I finished that last post she came up to the piano and started playing her soulful, brilliant, healing music. All she had was a guitar-book version of some Simon & Garfunkel songs, and she figured out how to invert and harmonic-ize and twist the chords until our house felt like a cathedral of sound and then we sang together and after a few seconds I had forgotten all my worries about perversion and google (I think I'll just make my site unavailable to searches) and everything else.

She's such a great musician. So resounding a melody! So bright a touch, and such a sweet, airy voice...

Such a natural healer.

Then she left to buy food for us so I wouldn't have to eat beans again for dinner, and I pulled up blog posts at random and read them. I love this blog. It's not superb or amazing or anything, but it's very typical of me. I read it and remember again who I am, see a little bit how I come across.

The reason I started this was so that I could carry some of my favorite poems with me, in a sense. I used to try to memorize things, and then I started carrying around printouts, and then I started running to the computer lab to google poems when I started missing them. Now they're all in one place.

And now I look at this and it's pretty much the same story and it feels lovely.

Mom just came home with some shoes that might work with my prom dress (finally found one!) and Renata came home with food and I keep hearing Simon & Garfunkel in my head but I have to go eat Indian food and study more Chem and kiss my sister's chin.

And everything feels natural and right and sweet like curry.
I still want Harry back, though.