As David says, I am a wordy bitch.
I am still unable to sleep so I will stay up talking to whoever messages me and on IRC. When everyone goes to sleep, I will read the Stand until I pass out, like I did this afternoon, sleep for two hours, and then wake up again. If no one's talking to me, I'll read more of the stand, or some Vampire information so I can learn about the game.
I'll probably hang out with David tomorrow, and anyone else (I don't forsee any takers, though) who wants.
At some point, I'll compile a list of things I want to remember, like the day we almost died trying to get to Alison's, or the fireworks and the assholes with their boats, or Space Invaders, 7 minutes, the traction guy... the list is endless. I will probably have to use that lj-cut tag.
Anyway, I use my journal, in part, to keep my friends up to date on what I'm doing. That's pretty much it... sick to my stomach, looking for human contact, wanting/needing sleep, fading in and out, reading, dancing on the minefield in my head, trying not to trigger too many of the wrong memories at once.
crying the toy plane in the park and her daddy's dead, o thank god she's opening up to me
Because I can see them like photographs. Like Joe said, everything's a blur, but if I track just one pony on the carousel, I can see it clearly; smell the woodchips, hear the guy lying on the bench behind us episodic memory like JFK being shot or the Challenger explosion and the warmth of the sunbeams piercing the trees and the curls in her hair to light on my face.
the yellow of the desert sky when I finally took off my sunglasses "they call it a wasteland" and christ, was it really MORE THAN 111 degrees? we could've died
the weight of my suitcase and the wait for Ariana and the landlady coming by to check I wasn't too suspicious, my laws, no