thoughtstorm sum-up

Gone rogue. Tweet sent fast. John ran up to catch me. I didn't say much. It's just me now with no direction walking until something happens. I'm at some place that says almost heaven. I'm not sure that's true, but the breeze is amazing and the view is nice minusing the power pole. Looking in the direction I came from, I see low-lying patches of fog/cloud covering distant hills. The breeze continues to cool my skin. I'm almost sure Polli sent John after me. It matters not. Now no one knows where I am save the one man I saw along the road. That makes me happy, oddly enough. I wish for the sunset to remain here longer. To linger so I can stay here. When the night comes, I know I'll have to go back. I don't want to. Not now. The red streaking away from this hill in sunset's final throes makes it look like a volcano. That red streak is long gone, but I enjoyed it.

Someone between the lies, the assholes, the sarcasm, and "don't stand on the freakin lid" I need a moment to clear my mind. The last item was minor at best. I need heartspace. I need people to not be... so many things. I need an escape. A hug. Cuddle time. Solitude. All at once. I don't even want dinner. I am seriously struggling not to sleep as a means to escape my own feelings; it's not a real way out and I want to deal with real, but today is too much. I don't know where all of this is coming from and I hate that most. I don't want this right now. This breeze feels amazing. I'm invisible by choice. The darkness approaches and will soon drive me home. I sigh and ask for a respite. A reprieve. It gets darker. My posts are short since I am texting them in. The clouds take on strange shapes while I'm up here. I'll enjoy this spot a while longer. If darkness claims me, I'll walk home in the dark then. It's so peaceful at the top of this hill just *being*. I want to remain like this always. I really would like to see stars, but it does seem that I'll be allowed that. I walked here with such fervor and now there is despair in every footfall, all of them mine, as I return. Almost Heaven... maybe it was.

I'm back on the porch swing. The journey here was quiet. I got here while being minimally noticed until James came outside to smoke. I miss that hill already. James sings kpop and asks me how I am. I don't know how to answer. John apologizes, but I assure him this isn't his fault. He explains himself. I wish I could. I wish I had a Cassandra Wilson CD. I have a song I want to hear by her.