something happens in my head when I hear certain songs... it's almost like my mind constructs an elaborate milieu to go along with the music (as in the melody... it generally has little or nothing to do with the lyrics, more with how the chords lay.

Tonight is definitely a Tori night, and Sister Janet, in particular, is demanding to be played. And it makes me think of a house, green and wooden, like the pea-soup green of the house I grew up in, only smaller. Something akin to the old farm houses, with so many lightly-draped windows that the whole place just seems sort of billowy and airy, though definitely filled with lived-in-ness. Maybe the carpet is old and worn down, and the wallpaper is faded, and the lamps are turned off because even diffused natural light is more pleasant than electric bulbs. And the front door opens out onto the spacious porch, with lots of green, leafy trees beyond that. The sun filters through the trees in just such a way, bathing everything in patches of pale gold, making everything seem just a little luminescent. The breeze is soft... just ample and not too cold. And it's quiet, but not unnaturally so. It's quiet in a soft, far-enough-away-from-everything sort of way, not in the confining way of high-priced apartment buildings. And everything is soft, the kind of softness that seems to be extinct now. Soft like great-grandmothers aged muslin drapes, or like hand-me-down stuffed animals with frayed edges and bald patches. Soft like grass that hasn't been mowed in a while, or like women who've never read Cosmo. Soft like the trees whispering as the breeze blows through the leaves.

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I'm feeling really lonely tonight. Like I might feel better if one of my friends were here, but it's doubtful. Sometimes the only thing that sounds good is having arms wrapped around me. And reading or watching a movie doesn't dull it any, because I still notice the lacking of those arms. It's self indulgence, I've been told, to allow my mind to be so utterly occupied by one train of thought, but sometimes there's just nothing to be done about it. You'll remember, dear reader, that when it rains, I'm the one standing out in the downpour, not the one running for cover.

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mojo, by the way, is doing... er... swimmingly. He's darting around like mad, finally started eating... woohoo :)