inspired by all this thinking about clothes and shame, i made a collage, simply called "losing the voice." it is in reference to the fact that we have lost the voice of God telling us how beautiful we are.
its actually amazing that i had any energy left to make this collage, because i spent all day (and by all i mean every possible second) raking leaves. i love trees, i really do. and we live in a place surrounded by trees, which i enjoy about 364 days a year. but on the day that i have to rake them, o my gosh it sucks. i am so sore it hurts to type. it literally hurts in my arms and legs and my torso when i type. blinking isn't any more comfortable.
i love drama.
so, this blog thing is finally working out for me. i have had several family members and old friends stopping by and making comments. i am glad for the company. come back often!
it looks like i started something in my last post: toilet or commode? which is it? for me, i say toilet probably most of the time, but i prefer commode. the word commode is seriously underrated. we should use it more, as in, "i am going to go to the commode now." which i would do, except i am ridiculously sore, and going to the bathroom, which requires moving, hurts more than i can imagine. we should also learn to say "commode paper" instead of toilet paper. just a thought.
actually, that leads me to an interesting point. i would like to know if anyone is like me in this way: i have always chosen to like certain things because they are underrated. for example, it would truly be in character for me to start using the word commode because i felt like it wasn't getting fairly used, what with so many of us saying toilet all the time. this is how i chose my favorite color: orange. back in high school i felt like orange was a sadly underrated color, and didn't get its fair share of airtime. so i picked it. i remember being a little boy and purposely doing things with my left hand, like eating or writing or playing with toys, because it wasn't fair that the right hand got to do all these things. is that completely strange or does anyone have any similar experiences?
alright, now that i've been vulnerable and shared my deepest secrets with you, as well as typed myself into even further soreness, i am off to sit in silence and stair at the wall, trying to erase the image of millions of leaves engulfing me in an autumnal attack.
i say autumn, its not used as much as fall.