After deciding to spend an extra day in Wales, where things have been so damn nice (emotionally, I mean; the weather has sucked), I began to enter too much territory -- too much me for the people I'm staying with, too much talking during movies for me. (I tried to join in as a coping mechanism and got chastised for my talking.)
Uh-oh. I was just given coffee and affection, necessitating a change in the tone of this post and bringing into sharp relief the subjective nature of these things.
Everything is beautiful. We're going to a bizarrely-spelled Welsh place on the bus. Last night's dream, in which my happy dancing was followed by my mother telling me that I was embarrassing her by smelling bad (I think it was due to unwashed clothes and simply rolling out of bed and into the dance party), has been nearly forgotten.
I have been craving normalcy.
Am I getting it? Do I want it? Can I take it?
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