I'm sick *sneezes* so I've been home all day. Sleeping mostly, though I read Eragon and watched a bit of TV. I had a couple of cool dreams, but I can't remember them.
I no longer dream of eyes,
That sparkle like stars,
Or green and blue like the sea.
I no longer dream of hair,
black as night,
Or red and gold like sunset.
I no longer dream of lips,
painted red,
Or as plain and beautiful,
as the mid-morning dew.
But even as I wonder,
if this is good or bad.
I know that I will, again
Someday.
One of my worse poems, free verse is annoying.
I read High Fidelity again. Gooood book.
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