way too many blueberries in the woods. last year i thought there were lots. what did i know.
i watched the perfume tonight. it held a private irony for me, a red-haired laura and a man who doesn't smell of anything... in my movie, it was a bit different, though. the main characters got each other and only my essence was stolen, ruined. earlier, while i was picking those blueberries, i was in tears over it, yet again. time heals nothing, it just makes it that much worse, the hurt remaining after years and years.
nothing i can do but pick them berries. gather and collect. and wait.
