"it's a good melancholia
day and i'm glad
because
i need
to have a good
melancholia day
every once in a while.",
she said.
"that way,
i'll know
how
to
be
happy
on the
other days."

,,,,,nicole desourdy

xo

dear dawn,

i was in your bed yesterday.
see me?
that's me.
in your bed.
as soon as you left, i was there.
in your warm bed.
laying on your warm covers,
with your husband.
and he loves me more than you.
because i'm cuter.
so there.

sincerely,
molly dodd

fortune cookie thursday

a. if you are in desperate need to tinkle
b. if you are holding a cup of very hot coffee
c. if you're trying to sleep
d. if you tell him to swerve to avoid the pothole

can you think of the many others i've missed?
happy thursday!

thanks heather for the link to format differently! xo

lately,
all this introspection
has been
making me feel
a
bit
tired
of
myself.

and by
acknowledging
this,
has hereby
become
introspective.

and now
i'm
even
more
tired.

dawn-o-lantern

have a great halloween!

i try to
remember
to walk
with
empty
hands
because
i never know
when
a
gift
might land
in
them.

i am heading on a plane to fly back to the place where i started.
a place that i haven't been to in a very long time.

even though i grew up in the south,
and call it my home,
i was born in rhode island.
and when i think of my very early years,
i think of my childhood that was rooted in
things like
the huge marigolds that grew taller than i was
the little brook that ran along the edge of our backyard
disappearing for hours to wander the woods
ballet classes that lasted all day on saturdays
catholic mass that was spoken in latin
and the beautiful colors of fall,
the fall,
the fall.

the address of the street that i lived on was 36 pleasant street.
it was there that my parents fought.
they fought bitterly
tearing one another to shreds
tearing me to shreds
on 36 pleasant street.

and so i am going back to this seemingly idyllic,
seemingly perfect
little childhood place....
this 36 pleasant street
this 36 un-pleasant street.
to wrestle with schizophrenic
memories.
and say goodbye.

taking pictures is savoring life intensely,
every hundredth of a second.
-Marc Riboud