so much and nothing to say

the night is breezy but warm at the same time. cool, but slightly humid. reminds me of home, a little. and as much as i look forward to the cooler months ahead, i wish the summer heat would last just a little bit longer. the sun, i've come to grow quite attached to her.

i have been having some odd dreams lately. one in which a coconut tree falls on Melanie. i run off to get help, and when i come back, she's gone. i continue down the dirt path we were walking and eventually come to a spiral staircase. i have to repel up on the outside of the spiral because the stairway is narrow and i'm carrying a large backpack. up the stairs is the office of a Nazi general, who points out the way to the hospital. when i get there she's in a bed, wires and tubes and all, but just a small gash on her forehead. then i bump into Belinda, who's in the opposite bed, with a broken arm. there are women sitting cross-legged on the floor holding their babies in sarong baby carriers. i leave the hospital and make my way back, passing through a row of army barracks and a village full of violent natives who intend to kill and boil me. i play human tic-tac-toe with them and when i win, they allow me to pass through a set of gates. when i get to the other side i turn back and say "this isn't better!" but i can't see why.

when i was younger, before the family home was set up with burglar alarms, i used to sleep with the windows open and the ceiling fan on low. night-time is the best time. it's cool, windy. my bed was next to the window and i used to dangle my feet out as i fell asleep. the air back home smells heavy. thick. tonight, sitting at my desk with the windows open, the air smells heavy. slightly smoky. it's easy to imagine that the hint of smoke in the air is caused by what's left of a fire Gene and i started that evening in the backyard - dried weeds and newspaper. it's easy to picture my bed by the window, feet dangling out.