save for running to the garbage disposal and some laundry.
sometimes, it's nice to spend all day alone, inside, with nothing to do.
and now, i'm sitting on my bed, in the dark,
listening to the rain pound down upon my window.
i've always held such fascination for water.
swimming, lakes, oceans, ponds, rain, thunderstorms.
i'm a february baby, born at the end of the month.
and i'll admit, from time to time, i check my horoscope,
not because i actually believe in astrology,
but for some reason, i identify with being a water sign.
it's all around me; a rudimentary piece of my existence.
i think that's part of the appeal with portland.
it's a city constantly surrounded by the looming idea of water.
tons of rainfall, the willamette river, the nearby coast.
and as i'm in my growing phase out here,
i can't help but wonder if the rain has been
the catalyst or the healer.
many of my memories have been defined by the presence of water.
it has been a source of peace and the greatest sense of turmoil.
it's a cleansing and a beating down all in one element.
but i can't help but wonder, by holding onto these things,
am i waving or am i in fact, drowning?
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