v u l v a l i c i o u s
Intuition fails, faded colors, and the feeling of February
I'm sitting here at the end of February like a kid waiting for the bus to come and take me to school on a Saturday morning. I have to wonder what happened, what made February turn from its bright shade of pink to a pile of muted brown slush.
Analysis: There was the beginning, and in the beginning, there was promise. Good promise. Solid, yet intangible, hearty tasting promise. The middle was valentine's day, with cards that made people giggle but not swoon, and a lonely evening of theatre that sucked more out of me than I thought it would. There was the snow--the deep one--that left me stranded and feeling dirty. There was digging out of the snow, and getting dirty in an attempt to get free. There were books and papers and nights of wanting more.
Conclusions: Somewhere along the way through February, I told my Self lies. I'm lying right now. It is the end of the month, and cold. There is more snow coming tomorrow to cover over the icy chunks still remaining.
Resolutions: I will find my intuition elsewhere, or else not revel in it before it takes place. I will take more risks--the smart kind that lead you to pretty places. When the snow falls, I will talk to it. When March comes, I will let it glow whatever color it likes.
When my grrl comes, I will let her glow whatever color she likes, too. But my Cunt glows perpetually pink.