Rambling # 022

# 1

It must be difficult to live like a felon: always running, always fearful of discovery, always suspicious, never being able to fully love anything or anyone.

Today I woke up from a dream that had me fleeing from all the ghosts of my past: in it, N. called me (and I did not recognize his voice, the thing I thought I liked the most about him), S. and I were talking as though we were still friends (about The Flake, of all people), and B. walked through my dream with his hair on fire, spouting poetry, as usual.

# 2

Today, I measured myself: my bust size has gone down (or up, depending on how you look at it) from 42C to 38D. This essentially means that my breasts have gotten bigger while the body that holds it has shrunk.

Whoever will end up as my boyfriend in the coming months will be very happy.

# 3

And the suture in my mouth is still throbbing. It hurts to smile, and chew, but the pain has not prevented me from doing much of both. However, my left cheek is still swollen, as though I'd been punched there by someone of diminutive strength.

# 4

And here's to India. I will be seeing you soon.