pretty much all of my writing these days mentions the evening view out my bedroom window at least once. spring skies are subtly beautiful.

Tonight's clouds are tinged with pink. Sweet, sugary candy clouds.

I need to just not worry. I need to gather baking soda and apple cider vinegar and a couple of unused bottles for my short hair. I need to buy more comfortable shoes for work. I need to go on more walks. I need to learn how to run in Five Fingers. I need stronger legs. I need stronger arms. I need a stronger core. I need to eat more Paleo. I need to save money. I need to finally start paying off my loans. I need a new computer. I need. I need.

I need to just not worry.

I want. I want you. I want to buy you a drink. I want to spend more time with you. A lot of what I want, spun up so dizzily in my hara, is probably not possible. The last time I felt anything akin to what I feel now, I ended up grasping at straws, yearning for a man who told me he didn't want a relationship, feeling like I shouldn't have felt hurt that he wanted to be with someone else. The cynicism broke the dam. Resevoir of jaded thoughts.

I can't describe how I feel. It's not love, don't worry, I'm not that crazy. But I feel crazy. Barely-tamed Thoroughbred chomping at the bit, almost hurdling over the gate.

I need to know. Put my miserable mind at ease. Or put it out of its misery. Just take away the misery.

I swear I'm not an obsessive stalker-type, I swear I'll leave you alone if you want me to. But I've gotten so used to actually going headlong for what I really want that I'm afraid I frightened you.

I need to just not worry. Just...been using a lot of that word, lately...not worry.

"Demons" still going through my head.