Sinead M

It was so warm today I didn’t even bother with a jacket.
Farewell winter!

Went to the beach the other day while it was snowing to see what was up. That tiny tiny tiny little figure you see far away is a surfer leaving the beach.

There were a fair amount of surfers out, at least eight by my count on my short walk….but the waves were pretty calm. Still, kudos to them because it was pretty cold…and it was Snowing!

I should have snow boots in a couple days so next time I’ll actually be able to get on the beach and take waaaaaaaaaay better pictures. Also the polar bear swim is only a few weeks away and apparently both my uncle and father are participating! I’m starting to think it’s time I take a nice icy cold swim myself.

Went to the beach the other morning to enjoy the winter silence, and this is when I realized how bad the memory loss I was experiencing was. I turned on my camera and couldn’t remember how to delete the pictures off it. I just stood there staring at it wondering why I couldn’t remember such a simple piece of information about a piece of equipment I’ve been using for three years. Eventually I realized that the button with a trash can probably had something to do with it. Memory loss is so bizarre, this was not just a ‘brain fart’ or a ‘blonde moment’, it felt like there was just blackness in my brain where this knowledge was supposed to be. Same with the other things I can’t remember, I know I knew but there’s just blackness and it’s just dark so I can’t see what I need to see.

Someone described what might be happening in my brain as an electrical storm but if feels more like a fog right now.

After I deleted those photos, I shot this one of the life guard station. I couldn’t bring myself to shoot anymore. Looking now I realize my lens needed to be cleaned, but I feel like a kid using my camera right now. What normally just flows for me is all of a sudden rather challenging and confusing.

All I can do is wait for the fog to lift.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMfrLFirGWc&fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6]

I’m not here anymore. I started two new blogs.

A tumblr:

Fungis Brain

And another blog because I hate the name of this one.

I mean really I named this killmyunicorn because that’s been my aim screenname since I was 14 and I thought it would work…but I mean the only reason it’s been my screenname that long is because I’m too lazy to change it.

and you can find that new blog by lurking me.

I’ll give it out when I feel like it. If your friends with me on facebook, it’s easily found.

That blue nail polish. That blue fucking glossy stupid fucking nail polish. I’m haunted by bottles of nail polish. Constantly taunted by them, reminded of how your no longer here. Sometimes I’ll find a bottle hidden in the back of a drawer and it’ll just scream at me for not doing more to help you. Sometimes I’ll catch a peek of a bottle peaking out from behind a frame and I’ll just feel like someone punched me in the gut. Sometimes a  All these bottles of blue nail polish just to remind me that I can never forget you.

I always remember vividly our last time together. Our last hang out. It was when in my bedroom, the walls were still white because I hadn’t yet decided to paint them silver as the only way I could deal with the announcement of your death was to lock myself in my bedroom and paint my walls. I refused to open a door or a window despite the heat and fumes. The smell, I wanted it to smell like I was painting the whole room with nail polish.

We laid on my bed and it was so quiet except for the rain that the only thing I could hear was your voice. Do you remember how badly it was raining the day? It was so bad that you came into the apartment soaked and sad but became ecstatic when you found out I had a dryer. We laid on my bed and caught up, it seemed like it had been forever since we had first met and you had lived with me in that drug fueled studio in downtown Brooklyn. And we took turns painting our nails with one particular shade of blue. It was completely meaningless. We weren’t taking care of each other as we often had to. We weren’t even doing the opposite and helping each other self destruct as we often had as well. No we were just two female friends painting our nails. It was so painstakingly normal I even wonder if it would mean anything had it not been the last time I saw you alive.

I fixate on that nail polish. You loved the color. I loved that color too. You left a pair of your favorite jeans at my home and when I mailed them back to you I tucked a bottle of the polish in one of the back pockets as a surprise for you.

Now I’m constantly on a quest for more bottles of the blue nail polish. I only know of one store the sells it, and I really only ever go inside to see if it’s stock. And if it is I buy it. I don’t paint my nails with it, I can’t, I’m stockpiling it for something. I don’t what it is but I need to have as many bottles of the shade of blue as possible. I know this is irrational, ridiculous, silly and I bet your laughing right now. I just keep hiding the bottles around my apartment in hopes that you’ll come back and it’ll be like old times. I won’t have a void where your suppose to be, no, I won’t, instead you’ll be there on my bed  and we’ll be painting our nails blue.