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Through My Eyes: A Journal
By Liz Root
Contact Liz by emailing her at liz@vagrantcafe.com
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11/16/2002
i work in a coffee shop called The Midnight Rooster. last night we closed up around 1 a.m., and afterward, i stayed behind to practice the piano. the shop has it's very own old somewhat-tuned piano. i felt like i was in the middle of a counting crows song. lonely girl in a barely-lit empty coffee shop, practicing the piano at 1:30 a.m. i finally made it upstairs to my apartment that faces Carolina Ave. (the main street thru town), stared out my 10 ft. bedroom window down onto the street below, and things were okay. i proceeded to actually sleep thru the night, woke up at exactly noon to the sound of rain pelting the windows. walked downstairs, picked up the mail (very nice mail from a friend in california), went to the nice little restaurant up the street, came back and had a hazelnut latte. Annie Dillard says that "how we spend our days, is of course, how we spend our lives."
- liz r.
- 11/16/2002
11/14/2002
sometimes you find yourself in a day that never quite seems to begin. like it's waiting on something. on me perhaps.
i was walking up 5th street today wondering if things would ever feel secure. if i could ever just let my guard down and breathe. if we'd all have to walk around with all these walls and holding our breath all the time. because i really do think sometimes that someday i'm just going to wake up to find that my body is laying on the bed like broken glass.
"second best, oh second best...i can learn to live with this, plus i really need a rest...after all what's wrong with second best?" - pedro the lion.
i'm not gonna do this...but it's how i feel today. i just really don't understand things sometimes.
- liz r.
- 11/14/2002
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