things i like due to having been born weighing two pounds
-hot baths (womblike)
-being swaddled (obvious)
-vanilla, not chocolate; bland, white desserts such as milk puddings, sweet rice (breastmilk)
-falling asleep with my head on his heart
-having my hair stroked
-hammocks (rocking)
-quietude
i prefer to believe that there is some therapist, somewhere, who knows that all of my problems stem from not having baked long enough. ohmylord is that why i'm a baker now.
my bristling at sirens, irritability at abrasively textured clothing, sensitivity to sunlight and fondness for giant imaginary cat-owl creatures who sleep the day away in mossy japanese forests, the fragrance of beeswax and tattered quilts, and involuntary and sudden welling of tears at the unanticipated notes of a music box. the true meaning of the greek 'nostalgia' is diluted and lost to us now, but it's the only word, it's jungian. it's inherited nostalgia, inherited from our prenatal marine selves. that my chromosomes hold and randomly release. their circuitry is hurriedly and haphazardly assembled, sometimes my neurons fire and fire and mostly misfire. my inner child mostly resembles a blindsqualling babybirdgrub.
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