last day of mugging

ε(●̮̮̃•̃)з

cute emoticon i got from msn. hee
*
emo reading that made my eye tear

Woods Hole. Midnight. I am sitting in the dark of my daughter's room. Her monitor lights blink at me. The lights used to blink too brightly so I covered them with bits of bandage adhesive and now they flash faintly underneath, a persistent red and green, Lillie's heart and lungs. Above the monitor is her portable suction unit. In the glow of the flashlight I'm writing by, it looks like the plastic guts of a science-class human model, the tubes coiled around the power supply, the reservoir, the pump.

Tina is upstairs trying to get some sleep. A baby monitor links our bedroom to Lillie's. It links our sleep to Lillie's too, and because our souls are linked to hers, we do not sleep well.

I am naked. My stomach is full of beer. The flashlight rests on it, and the beam rises and falls with my breath. My daughter breathes through a white plastic tube inserted into a hole in her throat. She's fourteen months old.

the first para made an impact on me.
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sometime, my life reaches a disjuncture. i am thorn(pun intended) between being hypersensitive and reaching absolute bleakness and then it swings to nonchalence. The next moment when my sight lands on a turning head, the sides of my lips start to reach for my ears. confused? So am i.