  We possess ideas, but we are possessed by feelings. They lie too deep for understanding, astir with their own secret life and carrying us with them. It's from this book I'm reading called The Year of the French , by Thomas Flanagan. He's hailed as wonderful, but all I can see is a reasonably good writer who has a slight obsession with the moon. I suppose I have a bit of the obsession myself. . . perhaps it denotes some measure of Irish blood. I think it's funny how much we worry about things that don't matter - summer jobs, standardized tests, how often I'm going to get lost on the train ^_^, that we forget about everything else. I don't know - I suppose I'm thoughtful right now. I lost a kitten this morning that I was trying to save - it was gray striped with one white paw and hungry.
It played with the tires of the car it was hiding under, but scratched me and ran away when I tried to catch it. Maybe it had eaten cheese, hmm Dollface? ^_~ So moving in with my little brother! Uh, when he gets a house. And did you know, everything goes better with rock? Even if I am littering the internet. ^_^ 
