nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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i love a-rainy night, such a beautiful sight..i love to feel the rain on my face to taste the rain on my lips..

Occasional passing of cars breaking the silence so thick you could rip it apart barehanded.

Rain falling, a wet curtain between me and the rest of the world, serving to make it all so muted and blurred...Kind of like the glass of the shower doors after a 20 minute shower.

Better than rose-colored glasses.

It's so quiet here. I've even turned off the stereo in favor of nothing more than the storm that's ending. Music of a different sort.

Tandem drips from gutters overhead.

Occasionally, slithering sounds from the wet leaves in the back woods can be heard, tiny animals rummaging around.

Dusk, although the sun hid most of the day. It's been like dusk all day long. Grey and sometimes breezy, and so still.

The boys are snuggled under covers, every now and again having one of their whispered conversations, talking about whatever it is that little boys talk about while fighting off sleep. They requested a cracked window, to smell the rain, they said.

Ry built me a man from Legos today. A very ornate one, with many arms and many legs which he said was to do "things" with. Things..

We watched Batman Forever and then they wanted to discuss how silly it was to put the Riddler in an asylum since it looked more like a jail and how was he supposed to get better? Sick people can't get better in a jail, so says my Trev.

They've had exposure to so many things that have taught them more than I imagined. My mother, and both of my brothers are bipolar. And while all are supposed to be on meds, they aren't. They've chosen to muddle through without them. And the boys, while not around them all that often, have picked up bits and pieces. And those pieces have given them some empathy.

Shadows have crept over and into the garden in the back yard. Almost alive.

Maybe just resting.

There's a fog coming. And it's fog, not mist because it's thick... Put on like a fuzzy pair of slippers to hold in ..something. Perfect for getting lost in with only your thoughts for company. Sometimes I think that that's not such a bad thing. And sometimes it is.

I'm off to curl up with a book by Jeffrey Deaver. Back later.

N.

8:14 p.m. - 2003-05-03

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