I went for a walk on this rare sunny day, and only gave one sticky note away. The guy thought it was for Alanis Morrisette, as often happens. I was nearly home at the end of my walk and saw my neighbour with her dog, and I said “If you’ll stub out your cigarette I’ll walk with you.”, and she did. I invited her to the restaurant afterward. My treat. I always feel very stuffed after eating there if I order my usual dish, and it takes me a long time to eat it. My neighbour finished her shredded tofu rolls and went out for a smoke while I slurped my endless noodles. I don’t blame her. I wonder which mental health worker I’ll be seeing tomorrow. The one who sounded the alarm hasn’t replied to my email, though I know that she works Sundays. Maybe she called in sick. I hope she’s not just seething mad at me.
Morrissey once waited for me while I slurped those noodles. He stayed out on the bench. So patiently. Will he ever come again while I can still appreciate his company, I wonder. It’s been about 40 days since he showed up walking past me on the sidewalk, on Valentine’s Eve. I don’t think I can wait another 5 months for you to try again Morrissey. I simply don’t know if my physical health will hold up that long. And I’m afraid, if my mental health workers decide to make a stink about me believing I saw you on February 13th around 11AM, that they could give me another unwarranted appointment with my psychiatrist. He would probably see though, that I’m just taking care of myself, and not putting others in danger, and that believing I saw you inches from me, doesn’t pose a problem. Rather it encourages me to take care of myself and to have something to live for - the possibility that you will try again.
I know I’m not gorgeous. You must love me the way I love you, as The Dancer. We are each The Dancer to each other, I guess. I don’t know how you could love me so otherwise. I’m a dorky old woman to everybody else. The older you look, the more I want to touch you. You’re handsomeness is attractive too, but you’re the only one that becomes more compelling, the older you look. I mean at times you look young. At other times you look old. Both looks have their own appeal to me. I’ll probably continue painting Morrissey In Portugal in about 3 and a half hours. I have to brace myself, for being teased.