Florida Nightscape

I am writing in the pitch blackness, trying to sleep here in Florida and I can't sleep at all. Ten million thoughts tumble through my head. I remember when ChoirMan told me that he buys his wife emeralds (the night at Carmine's when his daughter came and so did Contessa). Also, wanting to talk to B SO badly... God, how I miss him! I wonder if he's thinking of me at all... Remember the last night I saw him and I said that I might come back a blond? I really meant it.

Which leads me to the question-- what color should I make my hair and how can I make a drastic change?

There is so much that has happened in the past week. I'm scared of AIR7 too. I mean, I know that he said he's the one that loves me, but why do I feel like it's my heart that's vulnerable? And how will I ever translate any of this into a novel? I want a STORY. A small plot an not this crazy broad one.

(This is not a dream my friend and it will never end. This one is the nightmare that goes on!)

Waving the red flag...

(I'll live inside you forever.)

Write about fat... nobody would read it, but you would be brilliant. Trapped. Trapped in your own body.

April sat in the room... rocking back and forth... She didn't know how she got there, but somehow this room had always been hers and she loved it because it was hers and nobody could take it away from her, but she could never leave.