here we go.

my mother asked me what i wanted for christmas and this is the list i came up with:
-books (which has already been taken care of)
-slippers (that are not my father's)
-my very own box of emergen-c.
sweet deal, right? i really don't know what i want. i don't really want anything, much. and the things i would like (new journal, since im almost done with that piece of shit from target, pens, ...more notebooks?), they are all very specific and picky and as gifts it would be too much of a hassle.
Anthony Green as loud as the living room speakers will permit.
i've been thinking a lot on the seasons, lately. winter leaves me light or grounded, and too much in either direction. it hurts. my body aches from i'm not sure what- nightmares? being content? the cold?
i'm genuinely puzzled as to why i've been having more and more nightmares. it's scaring me, and it makes me tense. yesterday i took a nap and dreamed that my father and i were going to go see a movie called Jacob's Blood in what was not unlike Anne Frank's attic. Then a preview of the main event played on the too-close screen and i almost threw up. it was about a husband dismantling his wife in various, grotesque ways- they would be sitting at the kitchen table, and he would rip out her eyes and her screams would fill the theater as the blood gushed onto the plate before her. or, he would slit open her stomach and her guts would just.. tumble out. the sound was so wet and quick, the intestine sliding against itself. then he would use it to strangle her. so i turned to my father, begged him to please please leave; and we did, but there were so many people doing the same thing, that it was nearly a stampede.. then i woke up to mark calling me. it left me completely knotted and tense. sarah, please stop doing this to me. it's simply unfair.
importance is hard to place. and i want to cry, and, as cliche as this is, it seems physically impossible to do so because there's nothing for my body to produce, to offer the world. even if it's only my sadness.
you see?
how miniscule.