Dramamine Queen

The key that has my apostrophe and quotation marks no longer works..just to warn.

When I was 5 a friend of mine told me she was half Italian. I of course asked her which half, in response she drew an invisible line down the middle of her and pointed to one side and said it was that half.  A million years later that is exactly how I feel. Like a person split in half. The older I get the smaller I force the eccentric part to be. Even though when I think Im acting totally completely normal Im still told Im actually nuts. Which makes me think that if I went balls out and did every thing I wanted to my life would somehow unravel into something completely incoherrent.

Case in point…the colours I choose to paint our house. Blues and  yellows. Strictly Better Homes and Gardens, a magazine I love. Everything is just so and I can easily imagine myself living in any of the houses featured. Then a part of me thinks about how I really would like to paint a room hot pink, because well…why not?  I mention these whims to John and his brow furrows. I wish I could invite him into my head. Into the vision I have in my head of how everything in life was, then he could see that it was just paint, much like hair is just hair.

Im trying to remember how to be free. I lost it somewhere a long the lines and I need it back. I need to create something. I just cant seem to remember how.