Oh, how I wish I owned 'Wild Party' right *now*.

It's so haunting at parts; a perfect fit with my mood.

Restless and haunting, with a solitary piano crackling through the dull silence and a quavering alto female voice.

That's what I kind of feel like right now.

A smokey piano and a rough mourning keel rising into the rafters.

I don't know.

Maybe I'm delusional. That's possible, too.

Highly possible.

I'm lonely. The apartment is empty and dark.

I'm kind of reluctant to go back there.

Am I melodramatic? Maybe I'm melodramatic. I don't know. I kind of suspect that I am.

There's a lot I don't know, I'm afraid. I wish there wasn't, but there is.

Like how to make pie.

I try to make pie, I really do, but I just can't.

And why?

Beats me.

I can deal with just about every other form of dessert, but not pie.

Pie doesn't like me much. I love pie, though.

...how did I get from music to pie?

I don't know.

Oh, right. That's how. I forgot.

I forget a lot, apparently.

I wish I could remember stuff better, but I don't.

My hands remember stuff. I know how to built things. I can do a lot of things with my hands. They don't forget.

I just don't remember stuff.

Tyne bugs me about it all the time. I kind of wish she wouldn't sometimes, y'know?

It's not that big of a deal. In fact, it's not a big deal at all. I don't forget important things, at least not very often, but I'm only human.

I still feel like I'm losing my identity. It bothers me. I hardly do anything by myself anymore, and that does, frankly, bother me. I do everything with Tyne.

Don't get me wrong. I love the girl, but sometimes, sometimes...

Sometimes she's like a storm on my perfectly smooth emotional ocean. She rocks my boat, how ever much I want to keep it level.

Although I tend not to believe much in the zodiac signs, my sign, the scales...

I like things level. I don't like fights (I go out of my way to avoid them). I like everyone to be happy, even at my own expense.

I like peace.

So sue me.

Fuck, I'm rambling on, and on. I'm just trying to catch snatches of Wild Party of the 90's broadway station.

Maybe I'll go cook myself dinner.

That just reminds me of how little food I have and makes me want to cry a little.

I still have the makings for smoked salmon and parsley sauce with crepes.

Sounds dumb, eh? I hardly have any food, but I have the things to make smoked salmon/parsley sauce and crepes.

But all it really takes it a little butter, a little flour, a little milk, some parsley and about a tablespoon of smoked salmon.

I hope the parsley hasn't gone bad. It's been in there forever.

Beyond that I have a couple cans of condensed soup, a bit of pudding left, a box of raspberry jello, some pasta, and two cans of pinapple.

I think I'll be okay. I have little choice of what I get to eat, but at least I eat.

...Man, I'm almost holding myself in contempt, saying I have no food, and still actually having some.

I'm still worried about it, though.

I wish I had some bread.

I wish I had some yeast, and an egg, so I could *make* some bread. That's probably cheaper.

I don't know.

I wish someone would come over and give me a hug and tell me it's going to be all okay. That would be nice.

.

Rosie.

Before&After