Mumford cries.

Dear Fleur.
Hill run this morning. And the seventh chapter of Ezekiel. I totally didn't get anything out of it. But I just carry on. Mumford&Sons this morning during my breakfast. That, I got something out of.

The nesting boxes are almost painted and my room is almost clean. My life is a lot of "almosts" right now. I'll let you know whether that's a good or bad thing later. I haven't decided yet.

Yesterday I read to Mandy while she organized. Excerpts of "The Princess Bride." My favourite part actually. When Buttercup and Westley are fighting over whether or not she is capable of love and she shoves him down into the ravine. I also read some Keats to myself later on and cried. I have been crying so much lately. It's ridiculous.

Example.

I was driving to pick up Fran from school yesterday and I was working a story out that I've been doing and I ended up crying because I gave it a sad ending. It wasn't even really that sad, just a little upsetting. I wasn't even crying because it was sad. I think I was crying because I had imagined myself as the lead and the main guy dies in the end and that was what upset me. I killed off my lover. I was weeping over the unfairness of it all.
I need to stop doing that.
Pretending to be my characters. It's not very healthy I think. At least, not if it leads to tears.
So I stopped crying and almost stopped thinking about that story, but not entirely, and then I pretended that it didn't matter. But I should probably start reading some happy books and no more Keats and stop writing bitter stories. Darn though. I'm dead-set on finishing this one I started last night. It's really short. But again, upsetting.
I just can't win.

I have to call Jenn now. And get dressed. Before that though, I'll finish painting the nesting boxes. So I need to find my painting shirt I guess.
Also, no tears today. I promise. Unless it's for a very good reason. Like, my back hurting from leaning over and painting the inside of those nesting boxes.

-Bells