aosid's Diaryland Diary

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this could be about a great many things - some unfortunate circumstances, a free emotion gone feral, a pretty patch of rainy cityscape, a lack of sleep, or a nice metaphor drawn from crepuscular reverie. but what it is about is sunday and how it did everything and nothing. a long night melted into a promising morning, one with plans and sunlight and just the right mix of warmth and chill and rain. there were rainbows and crows. and i remember thinking about how some days are just bound to be good. and for a time, it was. then i slipped out the afternoon door, spent a time dreaming, then stepped back into a world five hours older. and it was pain. mind you, this wasn't due to any outside stimulus - not stress or regret or this old torch or half-made plans unwound. i awoke, and before i reached for any means of communication (with even the time unknown) i realized my legs and my brain and my eyelids were far too heavy to lift. and the absence of any explanation helped this empty agony sink in a bit deeper. the day of sun and promise had betrayed me. so i spat in its face - i took a long bath, i sipped bourbon, i cooked and ate and laughed. and the day, sensing my willingness to personify it fading, threw the book at me, pages dripping with disappointment and fear and loss. and i only felt better and better. so it went after joe, knowing that i would feel his misfortune far keener than i would my own. but the glow i found, absurd as the gravity that had bound me to my bed, was more infectious, and soon enough he was flouting the rain and rejection with a noble surety to his step. so we boasted of our white-knighthood (for that has been our topic this weekend) and shook hands and were invincible until he slept and i remained. that was my sunday - weightless and strange, defeated and disappointing and assuring. mostly just a dream.

10:55 a.m. - 2011-10-24

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