Cassandra Speaks

I cut out of class early tonight, I just wasn't inspired to stay for practice time; no one there I cared to be touched by.

So, now I'm home, glass of red wine in hand, sage incense burning. I listened to Diamonds and Rust on my way home, belting out the songs to the night sky, the full moon.

I have a NaNo WriMo poster, Zuzu can have it if she wants it.

I really thought she called me 'Cassie' as in short for Cassandra, the mythical woman who told the truth, yet whom none believed. Cursed.

I know that Zuzu wants me to have a kid, but really, I just wanna have Ute. She's perfect just as she is, she's so special. Maybe one day I'd be a foster parent; offer a home, a port in a storm for a kid with a previously rocky path. I can see that.

I have my picture of me and Ute in the woods in Fairfax. I love her so much. I wonder if she knows it. I wonder if I love her more than her own mother does. Is that possible? Does it matter?

I feel myself coming upon a year of impportant writing. Zuzu and I were touching on the topic just Saturday. I think she is right (this time) about my writing, and that I have some ideas that may find their way into print.

It's what I've wanted for a long time, but I wouldn't write just to be publishhed. No, I've suffered the "but does what I have to write matter?" syndrome. Only I know if it is, and I am the only obstacle.

I'm sleepy now. Night all!