This is what I've got for finding some happiness while confined among a maze of walls:

if that embedded link decides to keep not working, click this after finishing reading this entry:

*Tori Amos in Concert on NPR*

nevermind, my happiness has depleted, but here is a tori amos page with links that suddenly dont work, I guess:

Tori Amos on NPR

belly dance class tomorrow...and locking this diary so that I can feel comfortable processing things I need to process before this weekend. Mainly so that I don't bash my bf over the head with his iron pans. My wicked little toe is quite aware that he has a variety of them to choose from.

Anyone who wants the password speak up now...I will delete the notes with email addresses so do not worry about leaving it. I also can send the pass and username in a variety of ways, so just let me know.

~e

For some reason I have thought of this poem each time I have descended my own stairs all day today:

To Eva Descending the Stair

Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear;
The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

The asteroids turn traitor in the air,
And planets plot with old elliptic cunning;
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.

Red the unraveled rose sings in your hair:
Blood springs eternal if the heart be burning.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

Cryptic stars wind up the atmosphere,
In solar schemes the titled suns go turning;
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.

Loud the immortal nightingales declare:
Love flames forever if the flesh be yearning.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

Circling zodiac compels the year.
Intolerant beauty never will be learning.
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
~ sylvia plath