To someone

It's 1:10 AM. It...perturbs? me that my mind spins these wispy things when I try to fall asleep more than it does when I'm awake. I'm reminded of cotton candy - whirling and spinning ethereal fleece.

Maybe it's the quiet. The night often seems subdued to me, as if darkness softens things.

I find it odd I'm journaling to you. I don't know who you are.

Danea? A good chunk of tonight was spent remembering that afternoon in a coffee shop. Even though my mind has resigned itself to your decision, my heart holds out hope. Sitting across from you, wistfully dreaming of how idyllic it could be, asking questions of you about yourself and receiveing answers my heart could have given...but I suspect that once again I go too far.

Wendy - of course you remain the current...(my mind hits a block here. Some might say "object," but I don't wish to use that word to refer to you.) The current recipient of my infatuation? I suppose that memory of time with Danea came up because at the time I felt like I was being shown my peak of happiness. You have expanded my horizons and given me hope (awareness?) of summits I have yet to reach. You have given me many seeds I want to aid to flourishment with care - though I think the least beautiful of the sprouted plants would be a flower possessed of beauty to rival...well, I can think of few things beautiful right now that I do not associate with you (and might thus make an unillustrative comparison). I know such things can be and are found with (and in the hearts and minds of) family and other friends, but these hours strike me as well home to the stuff of dreams.

I still have a pocket heavy with seeds, but perhaps another morning. My body limits my pencil's breath again.

Love,

Eldon/Satyesu