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divorced's Journal

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11th August 2002

8:34am: I am up very early and I smell like Lavender...sniff me.
"Oh boy you be wishing you were here now," she said with a cough, "I be smelling real nice here, like lavender and love...you be happy in a bucket of posies? I think you would."


Yesterday. Action died.


#@@@@@@@@***************RIP ACTION: THE BEST FAIR FISH AROUND*****************@@@@@@@@#





It is too early.


Too early seen unknown, and known too late.










I am looking for a preferably skinny tall boy. With light eyes, and hair in their face...that I could dye black. They should like the pixies and love the cure. They should smell like heaven, and a little bit like hippie. I want them to be smart, terribly but not in a snob way. I want him to get excited about things, flipping out to tell me all about it...stars, Camus, anything. I want him to like art, and music. I want him to sing. I want him to be no older than 20. I want him to wear scarves and hats with me this winter. I want him to kiss my little face. I want to catch him starring. I want him to fall in love with me. I do not want to be a second prize. And, for Mollie, I want him to drive...a volvo.

In my dream we called him Cyi (pronounced sigh).

Maybe his name could be Simon and I could call him Cyi. Mollie says I could call anyone that...because I sigh when I see them. That is silly but it works.


Find me if you fit those things, and live near me or would move near me.
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