Sinister: there's nobody else here, no one like me

[Today I am not in the mood for anything]

So I've got these wings.

I've been feeling guilty about having sprouted wings and not having the 
courage to try them out.  It's messing with the metaphors.

So I stood on the lawn and gave a flap.  And then another.  I was surprised 
how easily it came to me.  Like riding a bicycle, only far easier.  My first 
attempt at cycling was marked by a tendency to go over the handlebars.  I 
was also surprised that one can still be afraid of heights when one is in 
total control of one's distance from the ground.

So given the power of flight I did what anyone ought to do.  I had a look 
around in the hopes of seeing my friends and either a. impressing the living 
crap out of them or b. spying on them.

The campus was lovely up there and I tried a few swoops.  The loop de loop 
wasn't as graceful as I'd hoped but no one was around to notice.  Then I saw 
him.  The boy I sold my heart to for some music and clever jokes.  As usual 
he doesn't take any notice of me.  I didn't mind though, because seeing as 
he's here I can just go to his appartment and get my heart back.

He left the window open.  My heart was stuffed in a box under his bed next 
to some of his many cds.  The origami dinosaur made especially for him 
suffered a similar fate.  Heart returned to it's rightful place, beating 
feebly inside my ribs, I went to a concert.

The fall were absolutely brilliant, but I hadn't got the hang of winching in 
my wings all the way and lots of punk rockers kept knocking into them as 
they danced.  One of them turned out to know a little Czech.  I gave him my 
number despite the whole of my instincts being against it.  My instincts 
haven't done a single nice thing for me since birth so I see no reason to 
listen to their counsel.  I was scared to fly this late at night so I took 
the subway home.

I'm thinking I could put this newfound abilty to good use once I get good at 
it.  I could start up a rescue service for birds who get tired halfway 
between trees.  Or maybe I'll just help more people who crawled into their 
cocoons only to find out that what they had been secretly believing all 
along, deep inside they were a beautiful butterfly.

I must say I'm glad I wasn't an ugly duckling.  I don't think I could've 
handled turning into a swan.  Laying eggs probably takes it right out of you 
for the rest of the day.

Now I've got a question for the sinisterines.  I'm trying to compile a mixed 
cd entirely devoted to songs about wanking.  Culled from my own knowledge 
and that of my friends I've got  *billy idol - dancing with myself, divinyls 
- I touch myself, Hefner - Hello kitten, the vapors - turning japanese, 
cindy lauper - she bop, Tweet - oops, oh my, Pixies - the holiday song, 
Semisonic - get a grip* so far.  Any help would be much appreciated.  If the 
idea appeals to you I'm sure I could send a copy along.

The other day I got a bunny to eat bread out of my hand by sitting very 
still for an hour.  My heart nearly burst with love.

Soaring and fuzzy woodland creatures (and love)
Kara

www2.bc.edu/~brielman

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