metanoia's Diaryland Diary

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Black Holiness Purse

I feel so inferior sometimes reading others diaries. They are so concise and well written. They know their own mind and thoughts and dreams and shortcomings. I have hidden from mine for so long, they are just a vague memory or fleeting thought here and then gone...

I have had my pills in my purse since i picked them up at the pharmacy two weeks ago. I keep forgetting to remove them and put them somewhere I will remember to take them. So, I found them in there again this morning and decided to take a pill. And I did. Then in the process of putting the lid back on the pills flew out of my hand to make their big escape. Some flew to the floor but most chose to hide in the purse. The black hole, bottomless pit purse. The purse I have nineteen pens in because I can never find one in there so I put another in. Other than the black holiness I really like this purse. It has a lot of little compartments and zippered places to put things and never find them again. So I think I found most of the pills. The others are somewhere in the purse palling around with the nineteen pens and assorted quarters, buttons and paper clips and who knows what all is down in there. Maybe that aquamarine ring I lost back in '78.....

Brushing her teeth she thought, why do people create their own prisons? They live in little cells never venturing out. Oh sure, they brighten them up a bit with a few pillows and a book or two, or maybe a twelve pack and a big screen TV, but they remain a prison cell. I sure am glad I don't do that, she thought. I really should buy some paint for the kitchen.

4:18 p.m. - 2003-02-21

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