jetta

tequila was good. i learned that a big beer and a potentially upset stomach is all you need to make someone a philosopher. i learned about god... and right and wrong. or did i?

i drove home tipsy and paranoid. the cops could smell my ambiguous sobriety, i could tell. a women's soccer game was close to ending so there were no parking spots. i let all the kids out of the car in front of polo and went to look for one anyway. i turned on some music and ran forward till i found that rilo song at the end. drove around the circle and back out in front and i actually found a spot out near the big hill but i got stuck. i didn't want to. so i kept driving, back past polo towards the road. i knew it then.

i knew i was only digging a hole i would have to climb out of later.

but sometimes life isn't dictated by good, intelligent, safe choices but rather what would make you happy in that moment. whatever would ease the longing, the pain. so i drove out the gate as soberly as i could. the song changed but it was a good one. turned right once, twice, three times until i was on the street she lives. rolled quietly and somberly towards what i know i shouldn't see. i imagined the fates steering me towards some passionate scene of love with another guy. but i never saw her little house at all. only a jetta. black. with the correct tags.

i was surprised but i still can't figure out why. a jetta? black? it makes no sense to me. i continued on down the street and around the horseshoe, only to dive back across like i always do. and i drove away. the song changed at the stoplight but it was good. she drives a jetta.

the song changed again before i found a place to park but it was a good one.

jetta. i'll see her tomorrow morning bright and new. we'll make plans JETTA for the night. everything will be wonderful. a hole. a jetta.

jetta.

a weekend lonely sort

a lonely weekend at a crowded beach house. how can that be? alone in a room full of people? well, i suppose it's not such a mystery. loneliness has nothing to do with the people you're with, only the ones you're without.

and so i'm sitting back in the apartment, lights out, thinking of the girl i haven't seen in weeks. maybe tomorrow morning. i hope so... although i run out of the breeze blowing in me. whatever it is that forces my hand throughout the day. that thing that puts one foot in front of the other, that spits the words from my breast. it's been so long, and this is the scary part, that i forget what a real human girl she is. what i do, and this is nothing new, is allow her to be elevated with distance and time to some sort of ideal. an impossibly larger than life winged diety. it's no longer her face i can even see, but just the idea of her. and i think about it all day long. i check email only to see if she's written me back. if a notification pops up, i'll lose my breath. heart beat pauses. heat rises from a well deep down. only to be let down once, twice, and again.

the last time she wrote me, i was in the coffee shop working. it was the most beautiful thing i'd seen in ages. i had to pause and collect myself for a moment. (let's pause and add our own intentions... right here) she sounds so sincere when she apologizes, when she says she would LOVE to get dinner very soon. that tug of war begins again, the one between my elevated, high-flying ideal and the solemn kid inside who wants so bad to remind me how it's been in the past. how everyone i've gotten close to has changed. how i never know what anyone else is thinking. how morgan acted (how i can't believe her). how i really and truly know that danielle visited her boyfriend in boston before she moved here. (but those are her words on the page, that's TRUTH) but who's to say it will always be that way? whenever i hunt vampires, i never find them. whenever i trust completely, i fall on my stake.

but if it's really like it has been... if she's really no different... will i regret it? can i find comfort in that pain, same as always? or, and i laugh at myself when i realize this, can i just get dinner with a friend?

what will hurt is the realization that we are friends, as wonderful as that is. i know that and i can't stop it. i can only hope i've grown enough that i can handle that.

i hate all this speculative writing. it's not me at all. where's all the honesty? i'm crazy about danielle right now and for no reason at all. why? because she was that girl back in stats class a year ago. the one i always wanted to meet but never did. the one i never spoke to but noticed every single day. and now i've met her. now we're friends. hopefully we're getting dinner soon. that's why it's such a big deal. that's why she's a big deal. she was so sweet in vienna, so understanding, so kind. if i can break her collarbone and fuck up her rotator cuff (and i did!) and she still wants to get dinner with me (she does!) then maybe there's something there after all.

maybe. god, maybe.

bright shiny morning

i know, i know...

(i know)

there's a girl sitting across the room from me. i can't quite figure her out. she's a mix of alli, angela, and danielle a. to mine eye. the back room of the coffee shop is quiet except for the whispers of a standing fellow to my new friend will (fast and loose with "friend", there, eh?). i can't really tell. i have headphones in. but it seems reasonable...

this girl has dark hair pulled back and is wearing a purple-reddish tank top and concerned eyes. she's acting like her laptop is presenting her with an interesting challenge. always making faces and squinting. i'm not going to lie, it's cute. she is. squint.

we're in the back room of the coffee shop.

she looked at me a minute ago and i looked down real quick. then slyly looked to the right and left... all around the room. well, it made me feel cool, anyway. i think she caught me. not that she'd do anything about it. oh my god she just bit her thumbnail. i think we're soulmates. (i soul-out too often, don't i know it) ... (it's just that jenny lewis makes me want to be next to someone)

there are a hundred thousand things i've meant to say in the last long, long while but none of them are going to be written. i just don't get to it enough.

it was a bright shiny morning last sunday i went outside while my parents were at church to hit golf balls in the backyard. underrated times, those. morning is my favorite part of the day... and the part i sleep through the most. it was getting late but the grass still twinkled with the last dew and the sun still burned through a discreet wash of moisture in the air. i'd brought out the old three wood, which was my first mistake. oh well, the rest doesn't bear mentioning. but rest assured, aside from the golfing, it was brilliant.

i'm concerned... well, not concerned, but a bit interested... about danielle a. i can't remember the last time i saw her, probably before the first biomech exam, but we haven't spoken in a long time. i remember the time she mentioned dinner without provocation. i've been paid now... i need to go remind her. on my way home this past weekend, i dropped her off a mixtape in a plastic bag. i didn't leave any sign that it was from me but i'd assume it was fairly obvious. point is, i haven't heard anything about it. now, scarier, maybe one of the kids that lived there somehow found it, got the cd out, and put the bag over his head and died. or maybe, maybe, a family dog found it and tore it to shreds... or consumed the bag and died. i should have hung it up somewhere. i'm probably public enemy number one. (or maybe it's just that she hasn't seen me since then and therefore hasn't said anything)

...

it was on the couch right next to her i lay one night listening to the newest belle & sebastian album and talking to dubs online, even though she was right across the room. then she came over, leaned down to kiss me, and left. i remember wondering how lucky i was.

...

i'd bet i'm better off with jenny than dubs anyway

...

meghan and i drove to knoxville the other night. conor was there and jenny too. i got sick on the way home. i remember her speeding down I40 in the middle of the Appalachians, without a lane, around all the other folks, looking for a place to pull off so i could be rescued. i remember the blurriness, the fuzziness, the warmth, the lisping, the weakness, and the fear. we pulled off on the road to old fort. it was deserted. i climbed out my door and sat in the dewy, two in the morning grass with my head in my hands. the freezing air felt good. i regained consciousness. oh, to have the gas station bathroom back. but i wouldn't trade that moment for the world.

i love her so much. she knows it too.

...

i need to sleep. whatnot in the morning. i love. just wish others did too.

luck, pluck, lack

i'm a boxer drifting, swaying. suspect of the winds in his life. the bullying breezes, twitching this way and that. i fall harder and jump higher than any bigger man i've known. just tonight... as, well, every night... i was walking along the island highway through the boonies thinking of katie. i knew she was working at the grounds tonight and wanted to... well, essentially, to be there at the same time. i wanted to say hello to katie, to wish her well, to make her laugh and smile. i was wearing the clothes that i chose for some unknown reason. the red laceless chucks, the black levis, the lone white tshirt. the black rubber bracelet. i got light right before i stepped in. she was sitting at the employee table with kyle and some other girl who were taking over her shift. i walked past but she didn't see. there weren't any good places to sit in the front room so i turned and walked past again. stole a glance right and almost waved. she didn't see and i used my awkward hand to scratch my chin.

why don't they let us fall in love?

i should repeat. i've been doing work back here for a long while now. no, i lied. not really working (only a little) but listening to a lot of good music (which lifts me) and thinking of how this place is so bittersweet. i remember laying on this couch, albeit on the other corner, talking to dubs nearly three years ago. how she was sitting at one of the tables across the room, pretending she didn't know i was there. pretending i didn't know she was there. I was listening to belle & sebastian's newest album that night. it was the first time. she leaned over and kissed me before she left.

what i'm saying is that i can't imagine how many hours i've spent here. it was in the corner chair in the front room (there's a stage there now) that i blogged once documenting my entire relationship with jessica. there's a reason i'm loyal to this place. sometimes i forget what it is.

maybe math kids are negatives. cool kids are positives. and when you combine them, it's negative. but if you multiply two math kids, it's positive. maybe it's magic. but i don't really know for sure. (i'm not a math kid, i mean)

if i unfocus my eyes, the old books on the shelf across the room shift and sway and become the endless waves on the tide of music that is the second half of Of Montreal's "nonpareil of favor". it's true. i believe that music is just the physical manifestation of magic. i don't really think there's any other explanation.

a few minutes ago, paris came in with another guy and sat down on the same couch as me. i've been focusing very hard on looking interesting and like someone she should want to know. which is to say, my laptop is on my lap and i'm trying not to look dumb in the face. let the chucks, levis, and tshirt take over. maybe it looks like i'm doing work. maybe it's obvious by the pattern of keystrokes that i'm writing. maybe writing is something amazing to her... but i doubt it. we've never met. i know about her because one of my roommates once skydived with her. he told me she's brilliant. she's from france. she knows many languages and is well traveled. i know she's got pretty hair (it's short) and is wearing tights that have a big hole in the thigh. it's cute. i'm almost disappointed that she's using a macbook because it's so cliche for her, to me. and that her face seems greasy in it's light. i hate to say that in words. i hate that it's probably the same for me. but i'll never know, right? katie didn't notice me and paris won't and i will never have anything to worry about because i'll never get close enough to anyone again. never close enough to get hurt. never again.

i had this daydream walking over here. in it, katie forthrightly asked me if i had a girlfriend. i told her no and she asked why not? i told her i could give her the truth or the lie. she wanted the truth. i said it was because i was scared.

i didn't even know where to go from there and i thought of something else.

...

and somewhere, katie is or isn't dating anyone and does or doesn't remember that we met last thursday. somewhere (on the couch a few feet away), paris is worrying about being in north america. she wishes she was hiking in the amazon or painting in the city of her name. she'd rather not be in such a mundane locale as a student-run campus coffee shop in one of two hyphenated cities in north carolina. where the kids speak english and act elitist. where the only kid in the room she doesn't know personally occasionally coughs and steals glances in her direction. he types but not too loudly and writes something she can't imagine is terribly worth the effort.

it's become so obvious

there's light coming in the living room window like a prophesy. shines from below to strike the ceiling, forceful and confident. darth vader if he could wink. there's an outline of a beer bottle in the next window. i'd be lying if i said it wasn't a good night. i'd be lying if i said i was happy now. so it goes.

the pool was great, though smattered with frat boys and sorority girls. not my cup of tea but they cleared out as an apparent thunderstorm approached. i didn't get much done but i'm not sure what i could have asked for anyway. the cookout was as pleasant as possible and i was glad to do some cooking myself for a change. and the rest of the night was generally pleasant in the way that being surrounded by drunk friends can be. football, beers, games etc. more victories than fails. can't ask for much more, right? the problem lies in other places... like being the one of the only slowly sobering kids there (driver). like feeling close to people i'm particularly affectionate for while realizing it's only because they're drunk. like waiting while the last few pong shots are missed. it's a sadness that comes when you sink into being isolated in a sea of friends. tired, tired, tired.

i walked out to get some air. to move my car from the pool house to the apartment. removal... for just a second. i staggered out there in the dark (almost sober!) and climbed in. searched for an album that i could feel in the moment. i stuck in okkervil's last and was looking for a certain song but stumbled upon "unless it's kicks" first. the song i sat on a back porch in vienna and played to myself. the one which, on the plane home, made danielle write down the name of the band and which made me want to send her a certain package in the mail. i idled down towards the apartment and eased into a parking spot, leaving the car on and leaning back against the headrest, eyes closed. brief, blissful ignorance of what's real. chord movements and drum beats. arrangements. mixing. production. will sheff. will sheff...

it's hard to say anything about the night. i got a lot of wonderful pictures. fun times pictures... senior year college pictures. you know. i wore danielle's glasses for a little while until she realized i had them on and took them from me. i think they looked good on me. i flipped cups at the last instant. i made pong shots. i danced a very little, and with myself. but the more sober i got and the more drunk, loud, and, in darcy's case, combative people got, the less it was that great. and i wish i weren't there. this isn't a new thought at all and i know it. it's the same thought i have all the time. it's a madlib, a fill in the blank, the easiest word problem. i wished i was with danielle. in all honesty, it could have been anyone. that's fairly obvious. but for now and a little while, i suspect, it will be her. someone so relaxed... i must be careful not to mix up danielle and morgan. i want to say easy to deal with (certainly both) and wonderful to talk to... well, wait. that's wrong. morgan was easy to talk to but shot her credibility throughout the last week. danielle was wonderful the entire flight back but does she deserve the praise she gets? maybe she doesn't. maybe i just say nice things about pretty, non-horrible girls who hang out with me. maybe so. i still love her. her taste in music is refreshingly interesting at least. i want to open her up, crack her like a nut.

i want to sit with her inside the dark closet under the stairs during a party and talk. i want to show up to events together, hand in hand, to have that security of never having to be alone. i want a lot. this isn't new. jake and i met her between biomechanics classes the other day. she hugged me. i felt like it was because we were closer than normal. she hugged jake second but in my mind it was a diversion to awkwardness. in my mind. things run wild in my mind.

it's still dark in here. should be for hours more. i'm going to shiver in bed tonight, alone.

i'm the man who loves you.

the black sheep boy

i know i don't visit as much as i should. that i only drop by when i need to confess. it's something i need to get back to. it's strange to be back. it's often strange to be back, places you've left. it changes but it doesn't, you know? it feels as much like home here as it ever has before. i'm in a new apartment with old and new kids.

two of my roommates i'm tight with. sean i lived with last year and jake i knew well then and traveled with this summer. the other is a bit of a mystery. patrick. i don't trust him as much. i don't get as much enjoyment from his incessant silliness. this actually attracted one of my good friends, though, so she's over here all the time. which is really wonderful, actually. except that she's often hanging on him or giggling with him etc. ka, i've always wanted to be closer to her. to be real friends with her. real close friends who talk about things. which is to say, i wish she were hanging on me instead of him. it's a double-edged sword. i work for her now. she's over here often. i see her a lot and it feels like she's closer than she ever has been. but it's just not quite right. i'm still deeper friends with her friends than with her. that's strange. i've met one of them, the one i speak to the most, once. that shouldn't be.

at deacndive the other night, patrick and i were having a quickie relationship heart-to-heart with ashley. i made a comment that it seemed like any girl i'd have feelings for is already dating someone else. patrick jumped on this and wanted me to provide an example after i claimed to know/be speaking of people outside our immediate circle of friends. i fear he suspects interest in kristin... which is pretty much true. i'm not dying for that to become a truth, though, in the sense that it exists in other planes than in my head. i'm not sure i dispelled the rumours in his mind but i carried her car keys and texted her a couple times at the bar (bad idea, you think) and when they got kicked out for reasons patrick wouldn't exactly specify, i drove them home. one sat in the front, one in the back. considerate, no? i even screened for them a bit at the house in a sorry attempt to prevent dissonance and awkwardness regarding the search for TRUTH... namely, why we all were at home instead of the bar.

this isn't killing me. she won't break my heart. it was never that to start with. i'm ambivalent - we all are - about patrick and her. the fact that i've a touch of jealousy isn't anything particularly new or exciting. in fact, i can't think of anything more mundane. i should not, could not, would not interfere in their relationship anyway. he lives next to me for god's sake. i thought about it standing outside with critter and jrod, having a truth session. as much as i hated to think it or say it, there's a good chance that given the green light, i'd do something dumb with someone with a boyfriend, provided he lives far away. i'm not that stupid otherwise. it depends on the person. for example...

...

danielle from vienna. we've heard all about morgan time and again and there's really no reason to rehash her. in fact, i was shocked to see that she responded to a mass email i'd sent out and am not that she hasn't responded to my response to such. maybe i'll write her again someday. maybe not. maybe. but danielle, she's a different story. she's the broken one. i still feel horrible about that. about a week after we got back, i mailed her a package with a couple postcards, a completed sudoku puzzle, the most recent okkervil river album, and a pretty good mixtape. trying to be kind, you know. trying to brighten her day. trying to steal her away. you know how i do. and... well, i didn't hear anything from her. i wrote to ask how her shoulder was. never heard back... a couple days ago she wrote me and told me i was awesome and so was my care package. i responded in kind and she did the same. this is all just splendid. it turns out her trip to boston was quite special (and i'm happy for her, really, she deserves it...) and she's feeling better even though she had to postpone her DAT a month. this really hit me hard. i hate to injure someone i love as much as the next guy but she'd been thinking and studying for that test all month. to affect that really hurt. she's so easy though. i know there's no ill will. i know it. doesn't mean i don't feel bad. i feel bad. she's wonderful though. i suppose there's a chance i'll see her in one of my classes today or thursday. i wonder how that will be... there's a few people i'm curious about.

...

nastia liukin just dropped by on leno. she's a someday to me.

...

this year could be good. our party didn't get busted up. i puked in my toilet (like i thought!) before i slept in my bed. new bars, new apartments, friends all around. volleyball, running, and golf. i only hope i have enough time to sit and read or write like i ended up with last semester. if only. and get coffee with kara, who has been a sweetie to me ever since i met her. and walk and drink with meghan, whom i still love to death. concerts. movies. classes? classes.

goodnight for now. i promise i won't be a stranger.

walk it by yourself

i'm all peaks and valleys. ever since i spoke to her. i was told once not to put anyone on a pedestal but i do it anyway. every move she makes, i'm considering. everyone she talks to. every time she makes a social decision, i'm there. it's not fair to her. not fair at all. only... i'm wondering if it's not fair to me either.

when morgan and i got lost in the wien burbs on monday night, i felt a real connection to her. the two of us were the only ones around and we conversed like we meant it and that led me to believe we might be friends for a really long time. in retrospect, i'm not entirely sure what to believe. she never said in literal language that she didn't feel the same way about me that i did her. always acted complimentary and appreciative. i get the feeling she simply said what she needed to for the situation to work out well. which it did, i mean... i feel like the hug and "i love you to death, all right? you know what i mean" freaked her out some, even though she said it didn't. i don't know.

she's tough to read. the rest of the week we spent exactly like the weeks before. as if we were never close. maybe we weren't. maybe she's reacting the same way i do when i find out someone i am uninterested in has feelings for me. maybe she's just more tactful about it. there was a cloud of sadness, though, hanging over me for much of the week. when she spoke to me, it was jokingly. when she sat in a chair, it was never next to me. we had our moments but they were completely superficial and social. never anything more.

then at the biergarten last night she asked me how my back was feeling. just out of the blue. something she had to think about and start a conversation for. it was thoughtful. i told a friend that what kills me is that i'll take five percent of someone's attention and ninety five percent of their ignorance if i think they're special. that's exactly what happened.

she's sleeping in the next room but leaving early in the morning so we said goodbye tonight. it was almost as impersonal as when we met. a quick hug and a couple words and it was over. i hung around in the hallway for a sec and grabbed her hand when she went into her room but all she said was to enjoy myself at the park. that's it?

as far as i can tell, she doesn't really give a damn. we won't be friends after tomorrow. i would damn well love to, i just can't see it happening. it's a shame, really. i can't figure out if i did anything wrong. maybe she's just reserved. maybe she's aloof. maybe she's just not into me. yeah, maybe.

...

i had beautiful dreams last night. in the midst of some context were morgan and i. she had just started dating someone and i was being sane. she knew how i felt about her. since we were actually spending time together, she became confused and nervous. she proposed that we date while she was with the other guy, not to tell him. i turned her down. she was panicky and asked me just how long i would feel that way about her. i told her that if i believed she was for real, it wouldn't be very short. she seemed to take it to heart. so did i. for the rest of the dream, we both just waited for her to break up with him. it was going to happen. it was always going to happen.

...

"If this was the cold war we could keep each other warm," I said
On the first occasion that I met Marie
We were crawling through the hatch that was
The missle silo door
And I don't think that she really thought that much of me
I never had to learn to love her
Like I learned to love the bomb
She just came along and started to ignore me
But as we waited for the big one
I started singing her my songs
And I think she started feeling something for me

...

we passed on the stairs when i was leaving for the park. she said goodbye and i did too, quietly. somehow i doubt she heard it. maybe that's the last i'll ever see of her. maybe, but i hope not.

you can't hold the hand of a rock and roll man

i really thought i would write tonight. i really thought it was a good night. words in vienna. anger maybe. something like what used to be. fuck that. i don't know if i've grown as an author or just changed. maybe for the worse. i was looking back today at some stuff i wrote back in 04 or 05 and it was wonderful. it was full of energy, of ideas. not just talking about whatever shit happened that day. i need to get back to that. i have to get back to that.

whenever i close my eyes, they swell up and rage against the back of my eyelids. pounding. beat of the music. the man in my head is dancing. it's hot, smothering heat. the lights around me are killing me slowly. odd how it hurts more at the top of my eyelids than the bottom. it's probably empathetic suffering for those walking to the club. i can't open my eyes in a club. can't do it.

i'm about to hit you with something obvious. it's strange how people change.

i was feeling pretty good after my long walk with morgan the other night. i thought hey, maybe there's something here. maybe we're special. we're not. i'm not sure she gives a damn about me. see, i do this thing. this thing where i get all paranoid and eager to rollercoaster from one peak to another valley and back again. i get all quiet. moody and suburban.

if i close my eyes, the top of my head moves. i feel sick. i can't focus again.

she's reserved, quiet. if we're the only two people in the room, she still wouldn't talk to me. unless we're alone in some social situation, like our walk. then it's gold. see, the more i spend time with her in a real way, the more i love her. horrible, yeah. i listen to every word she says. i watch every move she makes. i just know it inside. i know she doesn't care. i know she won't carry on this friendship. for all i know, she's hooking up with every guy in the house except me. at least one of them wouldn't surprise me. but what do i know?

i want myself to leave myself alone for a while. i just want to relax and spend time with her. alone. somewhere. i want to believe it's real. there are other girls. one hooks up with all the athletes on campus. the other never leaves the house and has a boyfriend that one of them brought up tonight. i've been sending her music. she's not mentioned him all trip. everyone is in bed. i'm not too far behind.

fuck fuck fuck.

(i think it's going to be a long, long time)

hitch is only halfway over and i'm up in my room listening to elton john and elliott smith. does that give you an idea of how tonight is? i only drank one third of my bottle of wine because i didn't want to be any kind of intoxicated tonight. this is for real.

today was wonderful. a couple of us went out to some interesting viennese apartments and ate desserts at a cafe there. i played guitar outside. read some. went out to sushi with amazing kids. morgan was there the entire time. but i got quiet... the only way i could think to describe it was maybe... that everything that came out of my mouth must be the wrong thing to say. i walked downstairs because the movie was supposed to start and met her on the way up. gave her a high-five. only now do i realize how much chance must be associated in that. she asked me if i was ok. i got completely nervous and talked my way around things very quietly for a little while. looking off in all directions. she kept at it. very concerned and all, very sweet. wanted to talk to me about things. i decided to go instead of stop. we decided to take a walk and talk.

i took the path less traveled and i mean that literally. we walked down streets we'd never seen before and talked about our lives, our pasts, our ideas of ourselves. she's really wonderful, i wish you knew. it eventually ended up that she wanted to give me advice (we're really so similar) and i anecdoted that i had another friend who gave advice about this very subject. how i should respond. i told her... out loud and in words... that she was my favorite person in that house. she knows that right? she took it as a compliment and we talked on. i don't think she grasped the situation. we went on and arrived at my issue again. i made her guess. she brought up all the thing's we'd spoken of (she listened!) and on again upon my prodding finally stumbled upon whadt i'd said. we were quite lost by now (although i think our landmark was just a little farther ahead...) and so we turned around. i tried to make sure we were on the same page... that she's my favorite etc. she didn't speak as though she was following which lead me to believe that was her answer. that very non-reaction. that very friendly reaction. that's my answer. that's fine, too. i just wanted to know. so i said yeah, we're on the same page. she didn't believe me.

she guessed that i liked her (middle school?). i responded in the affirmative and told her i needed to create a strategic plan right quick. i ever so slowly enumerated to her how i felt, the proper gravity of the situation, and how i'd hoped she would react (without aversion). she seemed to understand completely. and even appreciative. the fact, i think, that i was so honestly and akwardly honest really had an affect. at least i had that. it was ok, though, because i think we were on the same page then. she explained how her life was changing, how she's shifting her entire life now and leaving behind the entire college thing (all those people)...(boyfriends etc.) and on to new things. it made perfect sense. my timing is the god-awful worst. but she appreciates me too, knows the difficulties of being real on this trip. she sees me, i know it, who i am. and i feel like i have a taste of the real morgan as well. it's something.

we almost got even more lost on the way home. she was visibly nervous, always looking over her shoulder and walking fast. it was dark and there were really no other people on the lonely streets we were walking. it was almost cute. i found our way back to the park and to the house without much issue, something of which she was thankful. i swear i would have protected her. i thought about it for a minute and decided to be honest one last time. before the buzzed into the house, i took her aside. i told her that i had one last thing to say, something which i would follow with "you know what i mean." so i told her, "i love you to death, ok?" and i hugged her deep and hard. "you know what i mean."

apparently she didn't quite get it because after i took a quick break from the movie, she pulled me into the kitchen and got curious. i assured her that i meant it, that she's special to me, and that she knows what i mean. that we're ok. that i hope we're ok for a very long time. (not all that was said out loud) i think maybe now we are on the same page. i found her writing about her weekend trip earlier. said she writes a lot. damn...

i mean what can i say? i regret that things didn't work out with someone who fits me like a glove. i'm not looking forward to the immediate future. one of comparing everyone i meet to her standard. i doubt the next girl i summon the courage to be honest to will be quite so refreshing to deal with. i only hope that when it happens, i'll have her to talk to about it. i don't have any right to expect anything more than friendship right now so that's what i'll work on. being a good and sane friend. i can dream, though. believe me, i will.

for all you goddamn people

drunk in the daytime. that's a new one for me. i'm fairly sure anyway... I started a bottle of 25 proof wine about an hour and a half ago and quickly finished it. the last half hour i've spent watching the beginning of batman begins. i'm sitting here now listening to "let's not shit ourselves (to love and be loved)" by the lovely Bright Eyes. i can hardly type. this is a good day for writing.

i feel like this is probably the low point of the day for me. i mean that figuratively, as this is probably the high point of drunkeness for me. i thought i'd drop by here and listen to good music and write about nothing for a while, seeing as my mind seemed to be in the mood for wandering and i'm curious as to what it would come up with. my volume's on 6 and that's only where i can hear it. i need to learn how to not censor myself. brittany, wally, jerad, holly, and sarah are in the other room watching the movie and i'm alone in this here dining room nobody uses but for writing papers listening to angry music and trying to think. somehow, 4:44 have already passed in the song. i'm not sure how. my favorite verse is just starting. sometime in the next couple hours the slovenia groups will return. i have no idea how i will act, especially when morgan gets back. i can't focus on anything more than 10 feet from my face. i'll probably regret this post in the morning. in fact, when i read it again, i'll probably think to myself, "fuck yeah, right about that" but i don't really give a shit.

what i know is that i've been thinking of morgan since i left this past thursday. i thought of her the entire budapest trip. i may be embarrassed of this later on, as i were after the whitney posts were written but right now, it doesn't matter. it's just what is. she's a pretty girl who is interesting and who hangs out with guys who don't buy into bullshit. or so it seems. as far as i can tell, that's me. i'll tell her how i feel. if she doesn't feel the same way, i'll let it go. i want to be her friend. it's as simple as that. to love and be loved. i just hope that is enough. if only i had a band to back me up on this. it would be beautiful. i might just go out on the porch and play it to myself just because i believe in it. wouldn't that be beautiful?

i might go back in soon to enjoy the movie. it's been almost ten minutes, you know. i don't know what else to do with myself. the most perfect situation i can imagine is love with morgan and a long distance relationship punctuated by periods of visitation, either in memphis or at wake. we'll see how that goes. i still have my paranoid visions of, "why would she ever think of being attracted to me" but that's how it goes. i'll survive.

i'll survive i'll survive i'll survive

hopefully i'll tell her how i feel. hopefully she won't be as creeped out as i can imagine. hopefully blossoming will occur. hopefully true happiness is on the horizon. hopefully. hopefully. hopefully. hopefully. hopefully. hopefully. hopefully. fopefully. hopefully. hopefully. fopefully. ho[pefully. hopefully.

the devil never sleeps

i know what time it is. i know i'm waking up in two point five hours. i know.

i'm drawn to write, though, because i'm in a bind. budapest can fucking wait. i can sleep on the train. i don't know.

problem: there's this girl. when is that not a problem of mine? a moment for a candid and hopefully honest description... her name is one of mine. she has long brown hair that curls a little. she's a bit tall for a girl but not nearly taller than me. she's intelligent and a year older, having graduated in the spring. she's been traveling europe for a couple months now. she's going to med school next year. her feet are really dry. she doesn't really have a prominent chin. her veins are quite close to the surface and readily visible. she's very mellow and doesn't buy into college girl squabble shit. her eyes are spectacularly big and brown.

usually the last line would be something like... "she's beautiful", but that would be a judgment, not an objective description. even more, it would be something i'd say just because she pays the slightest bit of attention to me. the worst part about being me is not only feeling inappropriately about people all the time but never really trusting your feelings to be true anyway. i find a little solice in that i don't feel nearly the same way about holly, even though she's the one i wrote about dating in the last entry. this kid, she's a dark horse. she's new. other girls would have a part of me, i know it. the thing is, i'm not attracted to them in the least. it doesn't bother me. no second thoughts. this one, though, i guess i care about. she's better than the rest. she's above them. now, there are other people who pay me attention that i know i get worked up over as well. i'm not sure it's entirely justified. lets look at the empirical evidence. i guess it's better to tear down and build up than blindly forge ahead (aha), no?

the veins thing is odd. it's all arms and legs though. her boobs aren't huge. not a big deal. the chin thing isn't really an issue either. it's just that when i look into her eyes... it draws me in, you know? it's something i can't get around. she's not the most outgoing girl, but will go out on occasion. that's cool too, i'm the same way. i love that she doesn't buy into the fighting and dumbshit that characterizes most all the girls i know. i love that she's above all that. i also love that when she talks to me for real, when we're sitting alone or when i'm telling her i hope she enjoys her weekend, i feel like she's paying attention. is it so sad that i'm enthralled by that? but she very slyly waits up when i'm walking behind the others in a group. but she does that...

my point is, this has only been on the table for a couple days. maybe three... at the most. i remember her on the train ride home from prague. we sat next to each other. i kept my water bottle in her bag. i'm trying to be myself. i believe in myself to some social extent. i believe there's no reason people shouldn't want to be closer to me. i believe that if they ignore that, they aren't someone i need anyway. there's a girl in our program who's been really sick the last day or so. earlier in the trip we'd talked about music and so today, before a couple of us left for belvedere, i emailed her the prettiest iron & wine song i've ever heard, resurrection fern. to make her feel better. that's me. she loved it. this girl, the one we've been talking about until the tangent, she loves mountain men. she brings up her ex boyfriend every now and then. i can't decide whether this is to bring up a boyfriend or to emphasize the ex-ness of the situation. it's no surprise that i have no idea. i walked in her room tonight to talk about the fact that she went out with two of the older guys (who got shitfaced) and didn't come back to the house and meet the rest of the group so we could all go out. she seemed sincerely sorry. it wasn't a big deal. we wished each other well for the weekends traveling and she looked me right in the eye. i felt like the center of the world.

i want to sulk. i want to be mad. i decided not to be mad anymore about a week and a half ago. can't start now. she seemed honest. now i can't believe i won't see her again till sunday. i think a part of me wants a long-distance relationship because that feels like something i can do. that lets me be myself without dealing with the inevitable awkwardness of presence. as if there's a chance in hell. as if i'll ever know.

her name's morgan. la la la lovely.

a modern rock song

it's sometime early in the morning and i'm on a train somewhere outside Vienna, Austria. the sun looks to be about six inches high in the sky, but then again i'm very small. we just rolled through the Hohenau station and are running through backyards with pools and cemetaries. i'm sure we'll be in the midst of farm country again soon. a couple minutes ago, outside the opposite window, passed by a dozen fields of sunflowers. they were brighter than morning. i longed to see some out my own but when we passed a few acres of them, all i could see was brown. they all had their little necks craned towards the sun. it was the prettiest thing i've seen in a long time. this song was written for trains, though, so it helps.

i can look at my leg in the reflection and it looks like patrick bryant.

i'm surprised there are so many deer stands out here.

my compartment is filled with relatively recent and relatively brand new firends. they've all got their faults, according to me, but i know i do too. the track opposite us is getting so unbearably close. i can't imagine another train could make it past. i thought a while back about the group of kids i'm with over here so far away. 10 girls, the jew and myself. who would i fuck? who would i date? i came up with three for the first one. the only other such girl is asleep across from me. the one we make fun of because she's so resiliant. her fault is that she isn't receptive enough to me. i would say that, wouldn't i? i wish i knew her better, though. wish i felt that comfortable bond that means you're real firends, not just extended social accomplices.

i can watch people pass by in the hallway as the old train next to us takes off, heading in the same direction. only a few people inside. they looked quiet. i think i've spent half my trip people-watching. a man on the platform waved to his daughter in the next car as we departed. i waved back . he didn't see me. the tracks look as if they're made from ivory and rust. steel and dirty bone. the people over here are more interesting than those back home. pretty girls of all kinds. i want to meet them but i don't know how. if i spoke to them in german, i'd just order a sausage. i don't think that would accomplish much. my greatest regret lies with the german girl at the fan zone. she was perfect. her broken english was one of the prettiest things i've ever heard. i fall in love so easily these days. i never even knew her name.

a girl i will always love told me recently that i'm the kind of guy who will probably marry the first girl he meets and stay with her forever. i don't know if i like that idea or not. go watch trainspotting. diane was spot on. i don't feel like anyone gets a chance with the real me. i feel like if they did, i'd be better off. it's good to feel that way i guess.

she's the only one on the train without headphones on. the kid i told the other night that i hoped all the good in the world came to her. she responded with " ' ". i'll let you draw your own conclusions from that.

i just took sleeping pictures of all the kids in my compartment. some are cute, some aren't. they should never know. prague is on a horizon. i'll be there soon.

because

i would usually begin a post after a two month absence with an apology for not writing but this time i won't. it really should be something i do because i want to, not because i have to. i'm situated in a dark room in the first floor of a house in the 19th district of vienna, austria. strange, no? i can see the dying projector in the room to the right and the streetlit street outside a few windows to the left. all glistening with rain. all thunders following lightnings. i wanted to be alone but there are a couple girls in a room across the foyer... they're giggling. there's not much i can do about that.

see, a couple seconds ago i poked my head in the door to see if anyone was there, before turning and walking away. they called me back in to say hi and see if i was fine. you know, because i'm so obvious when i get in these moods. so quiet. i told them i was and that i was just going to write some. they assumed it was for a paper we should all be working on but i told them no, writing just because. i think they thought it was a little strange. maybe i'm a little strange. i don't really care. if they cared as much as i did about anything, they would come in here and talk to me. maybe they will. i really don't know these things.

we all just watched a movie. american beauty. 1999. i only mention the year because the last song, the one playing over the credits, is stuck in my head. it's an elliott smith cover of the beatles' "because". this is strange, i think, because the rest of the classic songs in the movie, as far as i can tell, aren't covers. also because elliott committed suicide four years later. i thought that was interesting, considering the film.

i might have been quiet anyway, but i feel like i am because most of these girls started talking. they'd comment on the movie, make snap judgments, call it 'fucked up'. i could say that because i'm a film minor, because movies mean a ton to me, because i'd never seen it before and i was really enjoying it, that one might understand my frustration in these interruptions. but really, i think, it's because i'm a little disappointed. there's a level of ignorance on display. films, good ones anyway, are art. i like art a lot. i don't really feel like anyone can judge art solely on their first impressions. i tend to feel like you have to try to first, pay attention, and second, let yourself believe everything you're being told. you have to understand what the filmmaker is trying to say (and even how he's doing it). when you understand what you're meant to, then maybe you're qualified to agree or disagree or simply label. that's fair. calling any movie 'fucked up', you know, just for example, without paying attention or understanding it at all, is just ignorant. i think that's what really got me down. i'm living with these kids for three more weeks. i want to make friends with them badly. i want to earn their respect but i also want to respect them for real reasons, ones they deserve. whatever happened was a blow to that.

i really should reserve judgment. they probably don't understand. they probably didn't realize that i was serious when i motioned for them to quiet down because there's a movie on. probably thought i was mocking the situation because i joke a lot. i should learn to cut slack. i have learned a bit, though. i buy into the meditation we do. i believe that i can choose whether to be angry or not. i tried to focus myself and pay attention myself and hope that maybe i understood so that i could make that judgment that the movie deserved. and i'm not being angry here, either, just writing what i believe. and i'm proud of that, you know.

i get the notion sometimes that i'm more receptive to people, especially girls, who are receptive to me... or at least who act like it. that's probably why i want to like or love or respect this one girl here. she's of syrian background, pretty beautiful, and is dating a guy i don't respect at all. the more she talks to me and pays attention to me and calls me by my nickname of the trip (deutschland... yep), the more i want to feel better about her. but at the same time, i realize that she acts like a whore most of the time. and i realize that she's pretty ignorant about stuff like good movies. and i realize that maybe she's not as receptive to everything in the world... like i try to be. (and yet i believe, maybe she just doesn't know. everyone wants to change someone, right?) and it's strange to weigh these two because i want to be honest with myself and the world at large. and maybe i can do this thing justice and really and god-honestly be her friend and that's it and believe it. i think i can. i like that idea a lot.

...

but, lightheartedly, you know, rome was wonderful. i know wonderful people. they constantly inspire me and knock me down. example: i just wrote an old friend from high school whom i'd spoken to a lot last semester but haven't in a couple weeks. sharona, you remember her. all i said to her was: "hey kid. i hope you're doing well and are happy and content and all the good things of the world come to you. sorry if that seems strange." now, it will be a little interesting to me to see if she responds and what she says. because i meant what i said. i meant it with all my heart. and i hope to god i didn't say it just to color her opinion of me and that i just want her to be happy. i think for tonight i'll choose to believe it.

the giggling continues as more girls join in and talk. they're still leaving me alone. oh well, i forgive everyone. it's better that way, yeah? if they ask, i'll tell them how much i love them and movies.



gratzi mille.

go deutschland go.

goodnight.

men's needs

it's a beautiful day. i normally love sleeping in but it's also wonderful to be awake and accomplished before the majority of the school is awake. while the sun's still coming in at an angle. today's crisp and clear. reminds me a lot of the fall. i just said goodbye to mr. jones and mrs. jackson. i hate saying goodbye, even to dead people. i've probably spent more time with them than my own family over the past two months. strange, eh? on my way towards reynolda from reynolds, i saw something large and black fall from a tree and hit the ground. i thought a bird had died. fortunately, it was just a man on the roof, three stories above my head, shoveling crap out of the gutters. more black stuff fell. it was still a beautiful day.

i'm wearing my Hunter S. Thompson gonzo sword shirt today in honor of what i think is probably my last english class. some kids would be excited. i don't usually like last events. maybe if i hated it but i liked this one. a lot. i've been needing to write for a while now, just as a therapeutic activity. i went running yesterday for the same reason. it was beautiful as well, even though i went alone. music and myself and the woods on a sunny and cool afternoon. i ran to the trailhead bench leading to reynolda village and stretched a while before starting off. when i began, i ran to the 1.5 mile loop, around it, back to the trailhead, and all the way back to my dorm. i felt good about it to. maybe it was 3 miles or so, no real way to tell. that's not so great for lots of people but it's good for me. especially considering that around the backside of the loop, the woods section, i was just flying. it was an incredible feeling. now, i'll admit, while i was on the first uphill portion of the loop, this girl flew past me like i was standing still. short, thin, tan, sports bra and little running shorts. you know the type. she probably could have lapped me on the loop some days. if she wanted to.. beautiful from behind. really wish i could have seen her face. bad news is that as soon as i was in my apartment, my right knee started stiffening and within 5 minutes, there was inflammation the size of a golfball right on the outside there. looks like i'll be laid up till i can see somebody at home about it. appears to be an LCL or lateral meniscus injury of some sort, same as i got at the beach on spring break. i thought maybe it had healed by now. i guess i was wrong.

i think i'm missing out on josh ritter at the cradle tonight but so it goes. i'll probably drive out to see the rosebuds next tuesday night. i'm trying to get someone else out there with me. there's a beautiful girl at carolina that i knew in high school that i'm in touch with again. i think she'll go, get drunk beforehand and all. wants me to visit. her life's a little rough right now but i'm good at that. or... good with that. i love her to death, i hope she knows that.

you know, i thought i'd mentioned her before, thought she had a name but i just can't think of it. she's the jewess. i'm just stuck on that word. i don't really know why. she reminds me of a song though, so, until i discover i've already named her, she'll be (my) sharona. beautiful.

i only do it cause Irish did.

Lefty and Des look happy as can be.

what gives this mess its grace?

unless it's kicks, man

i regret that i didn't get more cleaned up this morning, instead of rolling out of bed too soon before my 8am class and simply going. that my face is the tiniest bit broken out at the moment, something that comes around rarely these days. see, the reason is simple. we did random group work in english just now. at first i was bummed because i wouldn't be working with my buddy next to me. it turned out pretty well though. two thirds of the rest of my group were the football team's beautiful, sometimes nude star quarterback and - ready for this? - chai herself.

i should preface all this by saying that i feel pretty observant, nothing more. there's a fine line that i'm afraid to cross, the one that people find strange. i don't seek out people, just notice them when they're there. it's all in my head anyway, i don't know what i'm saying.

it's been a while since i've thought half seriously about her but i feel like i got a sense today of how interesting she is to me. she was the last to join the group, came and sat down beside me. probably as casual as i was today. she has on this white t-shirt from the rainforest cafe. my family used to love going to there. blue jeans with paint splattered on the bottom. gray laceless converse low-tops. i have the exact same pair in red. last night i thought about wearing them today. this morning i forgot. touche, god.

a confusing incident. nevermind.

her eyeglasses are thick black-framed ray-bans, the exact kind i'd buy. it's not just those things either. it's that she's right handed but she writes with the claw like i do. it's the way her hair starts on her neck and slopes down longer and whispier by her ears. it's her demeanor, the fact that she's a braves fan. she's not perfect by a long shot but if you'd asked me to jot down the raw characteristics of my ideal girl, she'd be as good a match as anyone i've ever met. she clipped my leg once while reaching down for her bag and apologized. she kicked my foot by accident later and didn't feel the need to anymore. i didn't mind, it was a pleasure.

i think it's fairly obvious that i'm a crazy boy. this is used in the context of being a man, naturally. it changes, i mean. but with this... i have no clue. i tried bringing up the braves game last night and she seemed kind and interested. then the quiet kid of the group spoke up about it and i had to address him too. when that was done, there was nothing left to say. i just wanted some kind of in, an icebreaker for the future. i realized walking the mag quad towards reynolda that i really should have led off with wondering if she's a braves fan. because i saw her in that shirt one time. because i remember thinking it was awesome. maybe it worked after all. maybe she's attracted to goofy kids. if nothing else, at least she knows my name.

sometimes i feel like superman, sometimes i'm just recuperating.

supercosmicmoment as well. the quarterback and i are facing each other. it's a tossup between me and chai (i'm guessing) as to who's the most intelligent of the group but i'm the one who's spoken up so far so i guess i'm the default leader. quarterback has something almost smart to say so he addresses me with it. i'm sitting there staring into his big brown puppy dog eyes not hearing a word he's saying. i'm thinking... i have a football jersey in my closet with your name on it. wow. i already told you what a sexy bastard stradlater was.

i'm in a good mood out here on the sporadically sunlit patio so i'll close with a cheer:

what do i want? (to wake up next to her!)
when do i want it? (well... now!)

cheers!

the toreador

everybody wants body counts and i just want to cry.

i thought i'd sit in here and write about girls like i sometimes do but something more important has gotten in the way. sometimes i happen upon a random song from an album i've heard many times before. a song i'd never really thought of before. i hear it for the first time again and i realize that it's possibly the most beautiful thing ever written. when i sat down, ted leo's "the toro and the toreador" was the first thing on. filtered through these spectacular earphones you can hear the reverberation, the tiny echoes of his voice in the studio. every tremolo wobble on the guitar. every slide of the bass. i was in shock for a minute or two. staring out the window, unfocused, while people passed by, seeing only through my periphery. wondering with who and how i could share this to make some kind of impact. it's the kind of song that i want to listen to loud with my head in my hands, in complete solitude. to see every single word and note in space. i don't know how i wouldn't cry.

oh god, damien rice's "cold water." go try that. when you do, try and find every little accessory hammer-on and pull-off in the middle of the chords, right behind his voice. all the little ghost notes on top of the pillow-soft snare drum. you'll weep. lord, can you hear me now?

(or am i lost?)

...

one more for old time's sake. radiohead's "let down." i'd stop writing about these if they'd quite assaulting me. this song has incredible momentum. i once explained it to my mother, while we listened to it in the car. i don't know if she got it but i felt like i understood it for the first time. it gets up and moves and becomes impossible to stop. this comes mainly at the end but you get a sense of it all the way through. the way thom sings the same verse structures differently is magical. then they tear it down and rebuilt the entire song. then... oh god. then it leaves earth entirely. all it takes is a bass guitar and thom beginning to wail. it's a spaceship to heaven. that's all there is to it. when you hear the acoustic guitar at the end, you'll know you've arrived.

...

i had to listen to it again, eyes closed. staring at a window where all the bulbous shadows move indeterminably. i almost cried again. it's hard not to. this is what the core of life is made of. i saw myself on a stage for a crowd. it was a moment when people hadn't really been listening because they didn't know me. in my dream, though, i go out and unleash exactly what i feel about the song. i'm in front breaking a perfectly good acoustic guitar and not even noticing. it's near the end, when the momentum explodes. as it does, i'm wailing into the mic with everything i know, tears rolling down my cheeks. everyone's shocked, mesmerized. it is one of the moments like TVOTR doing "wolf like me" on letterman when i band decides they're going to surprise people. nobody is expecting much and everyone leaves with their mind blown. some probably wet their pants. that's the passion i'm dreaming of. at the end, i'd tenderly and dazedly pick out the little guitar lick and walk off stage, tired and completely empty and apathetic about the rest of life. that's what that song is to me.

i had a moment a while ago. i was in english class, saying little comments when a girl in the back spoke up. she said she agreed with what i said. called me by name. i turned to look and it was chai. her hair's a little reddish again. it was one of those tiny self-serving moments that make you turn back around and sit smugly for a second thinking... "she knows my name!" doesn't matter that she's younger than me. she's prettier and gives off a vibe like she's smarter and to be honest, to have anyone that i'm attracted to display any sort of awareness of my person does the spirit good. it's a start, anyway.

in other news, i'm all of a sudden closer to another girl i became attracted to last semester, yet another horsey girl. i've probably mentioned her before but i've never given her a name. let's go with chibear. she's a cubs fan and i taunt her mercilessly for it. we were talking the other night and it got past the joking phase so that it felt like we were actually conversing for once. she even guessed (cheated) correctly that t.o.l.b.i.n.y. stood for "the only living boy in new york." i promised her i'd propose if she got it right. she mistyped it first so i didn't have to. she'd never heard the song so i sent it to her. told her not to share it with anyone, that it was close to my heart. all she could say was "wow." she wanted to listen to it again so i played this game i used to play i with special people in high school where we both start the song at the same time. there's a bit of spiritual connection with that, i feel.

anyway, i feel like i'm getting along with nearly everyone for once and it's wonderful. we'll see where these girls lead. i'd bet on nowhere but it's fun anyway. and hey, i hit a beautiful 290 yard drive in golf the other day.

some days are rough, some are just beautiful.

one. two. three. four. goodbye!

gasoline and roses

i am beautiful with the world tonight. in love with the tap of my keys and every single light outside the window of a study lounge in the building across the street from my bedroom. and nearly everything else too. i am giddy from reading and, therefore, a huge dork. i am accepting that for tonight. tonight it is a happy place to be.

i can communicate with long lost friends through my fingers, even if they're thousands and thousands of miles away. i am also filled with a romantic longing, a "le sigh" notion that tilts my head and shades my eyes but does not interfere with the fragile contentment i have been nursing for a while now. wish i had the narrative voice of kurt vonnegut. of connor oberst. of jenny lewis. wish i had jenny lewis. i wish sometimes that i could write things or sing things or play things that i hear. it feels like i can but i never do. regardless, i am so glad there are talented people in the world. the ones who can play and write and sing all at once. the world deserves more of them, even if i am not among their front lines.

the door of my bedroom is framed in yellow light. the kind streaming from the cutouts of a jack-o-lantern on halloween. the door looks like the most abstract pumpkin carving ever. that would be quite an exhibition: abstract jack-o-lantern art.

i could not get work done in the library today, as jake and i plundered the galaxy for airline fares to, around, and from europe. i checked sports scores and moaned. he did the same. i did not get any work done when i returned to the apartment because, though alone, the heat makes me sleep and the television makes me watch any basketball game that is on, and my computer makes me check the scores of other games and moan. also people. i researched prices for a new camera and backpack. for some reason this seemed pertinent to traveling. you know, it would be nice to have money. i left the apartment and walked across the street to my new secret study spot. it's not particularly a secret. the room is labeled for studying. nobody i know has ever been there, though, so i think it will do for hiding.

hiding has become one of my favorite things to do. i am not quite sure whether contentment grows from that solitude or simply comes to roost without anyone else to chase it away. it is not always the right solution but some nights i find it to be lovely. i read for a while in my hiding place and then, when i was done and ignored by the few people i had tried to contact, i packed up and turned the lights out. i stood by the window for a little while, my nose up to the glass. just so when i breathed out, a little fog would roll up and then fade away, but not so much that it interfered with my vision. i watched the world sleep a while, not a single person in sight. a few cars passed but those were machines. the traffic light across the way had begun to blink an arresting yellow. mechanically, like a dumb robot. i wonder now how many times it will do that tonight and how it continues to blink every night without tire. reminds me of my heart beat. i get so anxious when i consider it. i wish it would rest for a while sometimes. the traffic light excited me so that i counted the different colors of lights outside the window. i found six.

six colorful lights. ah hah hah... ::lightning bolts::

i wish i were jim henson. i wish i were charles schultz. such culture. if i ever produce culture, it will be the happiest day of my life.

at one moment, two nights ago, it appeared to me that every girl at school that i loved without ever haven spoken to was with another guy. i suppose this is nature. i was a little down about this for a time but i realize now that they probably deserve it. hopefully i will, eventually. maybe, if i'm lucky, they will be caught between more attractive options as well. i love them anyway.

there are birds singing outside my window at 2:29am. the world is beautiful for a night.

(let down) hanging around

it's been a long time since i've written in the coffee shop. even longer since i've done so on paper. i remember writing a post similar to this one years ago about a friend. we only awkwardly say hello in person now. there's a group of younger kids at a table under the lamp talking about IS sectors and the fed. means nothing to me. the focus of tonight's diatribe is sitting on a couch to my right. half reclined actually. her feet are bouncing to an imaginary beat.

this is how i do. i sit and write because i don't know how to say anything out loud. every now and then i realize how dumb i really am for staying quiet but i never really do anything about it. she works here but isn't tonight. she's reading a book for an english class we have at 10 tomorrow morning. i was reading it earlier. i've found out a lot about her tonight. she's a film studies minor (like me!). i overheard that while she was talking to another guy. she used to take french (like me!). facebook says she's friends with a random dutch kid i knew in high school. played soccer with him. she's a sophomore. she's a braves fan (like me!). she has gray lace-less converses (like me... but red!). oh, and she's pretty.

thin face. black glasses. her hair was long until a month ago, when she cut it to her shoulders and dyed it red. a week ago it was at her chin and blonde again. it looks beautiful on her. her braves shirt is old with a few holes. the logo is mussed a little. there's a big hole in the left knee of her jeans. my favorite pair is the same way. i'm not sure why i'm saying all this.

i'd really just like to know her already. maybe if i worked here. that's a pipe dream. i know my firends like me. i've had a couple unprovoked comments recently to the tune of, "i'd rather be dating you." true, the girls were pissed at their boyfriends at the moent but i didn't ask them to say that. it being unprovoked, i'd call that social progress. apparently, i was a great date for the DZ semiformal too. i've worked my way onto the starting rotation. a last "woohoo!" for the white boy.

scratch that. she's not reading for our english class. even better. i'm about to not be... either. i'm also about to go to the bathroom just to write, "i just wanted to say hello (i hope you read this)" on the wall. that's how i do.

mission accomplished. now we wait. p.s. that "now", if you could see it written in my otebook, came out like street graffiti. spectacular and for no reason at all. the claw strikes again.

i haven't really been able to speak to spesso recently. we texted some last wednesday night. i even walked in the back door of the coffee shop to find her sitting in the lobby (roomie was working) and left without her seeing me. of course, then i succumbed to the craziness for a while. i dug myself out though. i texted her once last night, only half drunk, to ask if she went with her roommate to virginia this weekend. she wrote back this morning that she didn't and asked me why. i didn't know so i didn't respond.

she's on her third or fourth tea. we'll call her chai. we'll see if i remember that tomorrow. also, i've traded a couple messages with the swede, who seems happy enough to hear from me. we'll call her alskling. three pretty names for three pretty girls. apparently there was a kid in the french alps who looked like me. she kept wanting to call him by my name. i'm curious to ask her what she thought when she first saw him. if he actually does remind her of me. if, when reminded of me, what she thinks or feels. of course, i don't dare say these things. i'll get her to tell me in swedish someday. she's coming back next semester. we're actually carrying on like friends. it's nice. i'd kind of like someone to get high with anyway.

far as i can tell, chai is decidedly not a sorority girl. i like that too.

goodnight

traveling

i think some of my best moments are while traveling. whether walking to class in the morning or driving home (whichever home), it feels like progress is being made. thinking, singing, laughing while crying... it's the simplest way to solve a problem. the dynamic trumps the static every time. i rise up to my alarm clock every morning and shut it off across the room within 5 seconds. i'll stand there then, woozy, like a mortal kombat character about to be finished. swaying back and forth a little, rubbing my eyes. the only time i wake up is when i walk to class. it's when i feel like i can actually participate in life again. of course, when i get there and sit for thirty or forty minutes while the professor wanders about and expels the myths of muscles, my body goes numb. it feels like lockjaw for the soul. i try to move and can't. head's filled with cotton. when something interesting happens, i reach to write it down but i can't grip the pen with enough strength to pull the wing off a fly. not that i would...

it's traveling that brings me back. it's movement, change, reorientation. "another traveling song" works too, but for a different reason. the best times, my best times, are in the car alone. a hundred miles by myself. i love it. that's when i cry. when i laugh at the musician laughing on a record. when i sing completely without inhibition. i can't think of any other time i'm without inhibition but there. it's something constant and relatively inescapable. it's only on I40, where people are as temporary as a brake or gas pedal let them be that i lose any sense of space or self. i always believed that if i'm as happy and free as i can be that someone will see that and feel the life that i'm drowning in. even if they laugh at the singing fool in the volvo, it will be worth it. i won't ever see them again.

odd that it's in that solitude that you can not only be yourself but be protected from having to be the same. when i was driving home yesterday, somewhere outside raleigh, i passed a silver jetta with jersey tags. it was lane shopping, often going to the right, and the people inside looked interesting. i passed on the left and saw them both. two college-aged girls, both with short hair. a blonde and a brunette. beautiful, to me, the both of them. big sunglasses. i didn't have anywhere else on the road to be but with them. so i stayed. big black aviators to block out the partial sun. yellow baseball shirt and relaxed. singing my heart out to that same old ben folds mix that i know so well. when i was ahead of them, i'd put my right wrist on the wheel and tap out the beats with my fingers like i was directing an orchestra. i pretended they were watching me. if they were behind me, i'd change lanes and slow down. if they were ahead of me, i'll drift back towards them. they never tried to escape either. we'd pass every now and then and i'd steal a glance after the front door slipped by. i imagined them chatting about me, wondering who the happy kid in the yellow and aviators was. why he was singing so loud they heard the wails through their windows. if they were ahead of me, i would change to a faster lane just to watch them move over in front of me. i was glad for it. we stayed together from raleigh past chapel hill and durham, onto I85 and probably through burlington before i finally lost them up in the distance. if i hadn't been paranoid about speeding, i'd have followed them further. when i took the greensboro bypass, i kept thinking i'd see them on the horizon but i never did.

for a while that drive, there was no place on earth i'd rather be than right there behind them.




i'm feeling unobtrusive today. every step is soft, every door closed quietly behind me. wherever i am, i'd rather not be. i'm a ghost, a spectre.

keeping my cold cocked

of course it's good to be home. it usually is. in fact, nearly everything about being here has been good. so far. what's odd is that the best part has been driving home. i was easy today, which was wonderful since after the speeding ticket last week i don't need to be driving fast. so i didn't. i hung out on the right side of the road and kept to seven or nine over the whole time. it's nice to feel relaxed for a change. the sun was out and warmed my belly. my sleeves sat halfway up my forearms. no hat, black aviators. smiling to motorists.

but it was the music. the music. my soul stretched from deep roots. long stored in the way down deep down. it was ben folds who set it free. an long old mix tape that i haven't listened to in a year but am so familiar with that i still know almost every single word. still surprised i know almost every word. {it's such an angry night, hard to write about joy} speakers dancing to almost breaking point. fuzzy bass, i love it to death. and i'd drive along, easy and free, yelping those words in as high a register as i could manage. and i'm surprised at how good it sounds in my head sometimes. how punky my voice gets. how smoothly i hit those notes before i crack. high or low. it's like all these long, lonely car trips have paid off in the form of a semblance of a singing voice. i know it's not true. my sound blends in with ben and the band. i've never liked my timbre and probably never will. i live with it. screaming to the sun, though. mouth wide singing the tenor sax and trumpet parts. doesn't matter who saw me. there was just the highway, the sky, the speakers, and the happy fool behind the wheel. if you had seen it, you would have smiled too.

i hit a traffic jam on the interstate outside raleigh, heading to meet my mother and sister for pizza. i was into repeating so i replaced the folds mix with a new josh ritter album i ordered a couple days ago. it was also spectacular, just something i didn't know the words to yet. the second song, about an outlaw waiting to be killed by someone out to get him, contains my new favorite line of music: "i'll be keepin' my cold cocked". of course i can't really provide context but trust me, it's badass.

tonight is so angry. i don't know if it's tampa being a fucking mystical city of upsets or what but people are acting mad at me and i'm mad at anyone i don't love. eh, it will be ok. i'll eat cake in a minute and forget all of it. i don't feel like i write as much about what i think as what i've done. i don't like that. it's getting away from who i used to be. i don't like that at all. i should work on that.

spesso sent me a text tonight. we hadn't spoken since the party monday. she asked how home was. i thought about not responding but i'm not as mad at her anymore. not since i realized she does actually give a shit. and i won't lie. every time i get a text message, i check and see if it's her face on the screen. i'm a little disappointed every time it's a little envelope graphic. a little shocked and excited and hesitant when it's her. reminds me of three weeks ago. it's a remnant of believing there was something there. i miss it. i miss it so much. back before she was dating my roommate. that's the only thing that bothers me. i can forgive her for everything if they'd break up and we could all be normal again. i still can't fathom the two of them. i can't walk in the room and see her giggling on his bed. i can't hear him pick up the phone and say "hey you". it's too new, not distant enough to be comfortable with. that's why i can't make peace, not yet. i can't speak to her or be close to her. i can't see her or spend time with her alone. i'll remember why i wanted her in the first place. i'll find those false cues that confused me in the first place. that just makes it worse. i was kind though. i responded and mentioned that i was writing. she likes that. i hoped she had a good time at the beach this weekend {another trip i wasn't invited on, although i wouldn't have gone anyway}.

my old human physiology professor thinks i might have a torn lateral meniscus or lateral collateral ligament in my right knee. so that's exciting...

i can't be interesting anymore tonight. i'll just end up talking about her more. it's my escape when i don't have anything better to say. how sad is that? some writer i'd make.

i'm never going to dance again...

... the way i danced with you...

back to that other place i ever write anything. my morning spot. big chair in the green room, staring out at downtown above the trees. people working or sleeping, others passing through all the time. only twenty minutes until english but that's enough to get a few thoughts out. "careless whisper" is stuck in my head. the most spectacular version ever - a ben folds and rufus wainwright duet. i'd go gay for rufus. i'm not even kidding.

i just finished up a guilty gross anatomy lab. i say that because i have thoughts that i can't say out loud for fear of being outcast. shunt. we're looking at big, meaty leg muscles like adductor magnus or soleus. after working with mr. jones and mrs. jackson for so long, you get lost in them. i don't even see them as people anymore... or i forget. i hold one of those fleshy muscles in my hand and think... delicious.

oh, also, when we were getting things wrong around the bodies today, my prof. would tell us, "no soup for you!" awesome. i also learned that bone is colored "desert sand." go figure.

today feels good. i don't worry so much about seeing spesso anymore. usually only when i walk up to or leave my room. every now and then, i notice how cyclic my life becomes . early last semester, i didn't know her or clam (her roommate) at all. by the time we actually met, early this semester, i'd hope not to see them when i walked out my door, always glanced down to the left, simply because we were too new of friends for me to be comfortable with. when we got close, i always wished they would pop up because they brightened my day. now i'm back to wishing for my solitude. who knows what's next. it was a strange moment last night when i told clam that i'd love for her to drop by anytime she's alone.

i feel drama-queen good about the situation. leaving spesso in tears was best, i feel. she knows i'm hurt but hopefully not a complete bastard. i know it's hurting her and can take my time and head back when i'm ready. as long as she doesn't get angry at me, and she hasn't yet, the game is still being played by my terms. i am a cruel son of a bitch.

i'm realizing a strange, frightening thing. i think i enjoy being the victim too much. it's a comfortable, vindicated spot to be. i know i'd love to be the winner every now and then but as rare as that is, i'm afraid of it. we used to have an old rescued racing greyhound named sapphire. every now and then, she'd see a rabbit while we were out walking and she'd try and bolt off to chase it, as racing dogs do. my mother often used to say that she wondered what the hell sapphire would do if she ever actually caught that rabbit. i don't think she knew.

i sure as hell don't.

church of the red cave

i am the only living boy


i sat out in the green room yesterday in my favorite chair, skimming over a blender article on my new favorite pop star (kelly clarkson, even though i haven't heard any of her music) and listening to music. radiohead's "climbing up the walls" shuffled in and i froze. it's one of those songs that i never noticed for the longest time and then one day realized it's as beautiful and dark and deep as the ocean. it's the dark room i'm sitting in. it's a shadow on the other side of the blinds, my window slamming shut while i'm sleeping. i stopped reading, knocked the volume up too high, and closed my eyes. it's one of those songs that, when it gets moving... when all the bass and guitar and percussion and strings and vocals and noise hit at once... i forgot to breathe for a while. all the air left and there was a big, heavy, immovable pit inside. and it was fine. when jonny sent in his army of 16 violins at the end, i died.

and as for saint patty's day... car bombs were in order, which led to a game of darts that took far too long. three of us left for a bar - finnegan's wake, naturally - praying there was no cover charge. there wasn't and we found some friends at the very back of a very long and crowded and green room. a cover band on the near end played beautiful music. i'd forgotten how much i adore "sympathy for the devil". a friend said the guinness wasn't good because they'd poured them in advance for orders and they weren't quite cold. i took a murphy's followed by a harp followed by a highland's gaelic ale... for around fifteen dollars i'm guessing. oh well. it's saint patty's day. we all took pictures and took off for a frat party catering to the holiday.

stumbled in the back door there and hid among the group as we found my roommate and the girl. we'll call her spesso tonight because the name's stuck on my mind. someone tossed me a beer. spesso had messaged me earlier, while i was alone playing guitar, which shocked the hell out of me. she tried to apologize and figure out how to make things better. i played the drama queen, didn't say much, and didn't give her an opportunity at all. poor kid. just told her i didn't know what would happen. i didn't know anything. i was hoping she wouldn't approach me at the party because i was drunk with beer and goodwill. didn't really want to be too kind to her. we headed downstairs and met a kid who lived near me freshman year. he looked like a wreck and appeared to be wandering around alone. certainly friendly. asked if i was growing a beard. only accidentally, i told him. a pretty friend of mine, who we'd found back at finnegan's, told me to be her bodyguard because there was a creepy guy at some table doing something but i lost interest. i walked upstairs to go to the bathroom and forgot. there was a girl trying to figure out how to use it and made me guard the door for her, which i did. i did my business and was on my way out when spesso found me separated from the herd and decided we needed to talk.

i wasn't as mean to her as i could have been. i don't really remember it all that well, honestly. about halfway through our conversation, i noticed everyone else had regrouped beside us. every now and then, one of our short drunk friends would walk up as if we were a triangle but i'd just stare at him and he'd wander away again. (later on, we parked back here and he decided to walk the couple miles back to his apartment in the middle of the night without telling anyone) she tried to explain what happened and tell me that she didn't mean to hurt me. i told her it should have been her who spoke to me instead of my roommate. he didn't have the perspective she did. she was the one who knew the issues i would have with all this. at least if she had come to me first, i would have no one to blame for any ill will except myself. that it was all the more difficult because i had figured out exactly what she meant to me. that my feelings were real. she tried to tell me that she didn't see it coming at all, that it just happened the night it did and i was the first to know in the morning. frankly, i still don't believe that at all. i told her the entire situation was cruel. that i didn't blame him at all, just her. that i wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardize their relationship but that i'd just deal with my own issues myself, in time. my motif of the evening dealt with time. time would heal all, i said. but time takes time, you know.

i was actually very kind. i told her i didn't know how to hang out with her or see them together and that if i ever had to, i'd probably just leave. she apologized again and said she missed me and that there wasn't much time before school would be done (she's traveling next semester) and she was worried because of that. she valued my friendship and didn't want to lose it. i couldn't very well go back on what i said before so i just repeated it, the time business. she started getting hit by violent sniffles and looking away, making it more difficult. her words came out in wails but she tried to hide it. i don't know how much of this was heard or seen by the rest of the party but we were basically yelling at each other just to hear so i doubt it. eventually we ran out of words and she started crying to herself. i pulled her in close with my beerless arm and she cried into my shoulder. how do you describe a moment like that?

i can't remember ever having that kind of effect on someone. it's not like me to make a girl cry. i usually don't mean that much. her boyfriend was standing in the kitchen talking to someone and i tried to wave him over but he never saw me. i told her that it was going to be ok, that we would be ok eventually. she said she needed to get some air and walked outside. i didn't want her emotionally wandering through a saint patty's day frat party alone so i followed her outside. i leaned up against a post while she stood in the yard. she looked back at me once, as if i was the one torturing her by following her out there. welcome to last week. eventually, her boyfriend found us outside and went over to her. i didn't look, just walked back inside. they were taking more pictures so i joined in. i can't really imagine how much you could read on my face.

i couldn't sleep so i puked some and tried again. the night swallowed me whole after that.




i woke in the morning to find her jewelry and a travel toothbrush on the counter above our sink.




i don't really know what to think of all this. it's pretty clear that i can't handle seeing them together or her alone, really. it does nothing but remind me of the feelings i had... and the ones i still do. i don't believe she is so cruel, though. she's not as bad as she acted. i know she cares about me and our friendship. i just don't know what to do about it. she made a mistake and never fixed it and hurt me. i locked myself inside and refused to talk to or look at her, which hurt her. and here we're stuck at an impasse. time is running out.

i don't know what the fuck i'm going to do.

these days, these days

it's hard for me but i'm trying


time passes, as it tends to do. i've traversed hundreds of miles, incurred hundreds of dollars in debts, and drank more than usual. there is no survival without good friends. nothing much has changed.

saturday is mostly a blur. packing up to leave, based on an ill-received but accepted lie that someone was going to spray for insects on sunday. i suppose the two of them weren't keen on leaving their dream vacation early. i couldn't handle being left there alone with them when the other girl left. in fact, i invited her to dinner with us and she accepted. they didn't even accost me in the car. no, it was worse.

i can't remember specifics but a few things stick out in my mind. passing by in the hallway like we didn't know each other. i can't decide whether or not i should be mean to this girl. i can't decide whether i have the right to be mean. i think it would be easier to just assume i do. a week ago, i might have smiled or punched her in the shoulder when we'd pass close but now i look down at the floor. i cannot imagine she doesn't notice. still, she refuses to call me out on it. scared, i suppose. i guess ignorance is bliss for her too. bliss for me is not acting like her friend anymore, cruel as that may be. there's no lack of cruelty from either of us, though.

she rode halfway home with the other girl, which was pleasant. we stopped at the end of the island to walk through a saint patty's day festival that was being held. middle age drunk couples wandered past us on the road. we walked in a large white tent with a band and were informed over loudspeaker that beers would cease in fifteen minutes. i walked over to the beer table by the beer truck and asked for a bud - the other option being bud light... the worn girl brought me back a bud light and asked for a ticket. "get a ticket, get a beer?" i shouted over the music. she stared at me and pointed to a table next to us. i stood in line and paid four dollars for one beer ticket. the guy that checked my id told me happy birthday, it being about a month since i'd turned 21. i can't decide whether it was pleasant or annoying. i went back, spoke with someone else, and traded my fresh ticket for a beer. it was mostly cold. behind the table stood the beer truck, 15 taps lining it's side. we tried to walk around some but a man told me we couldn't leave the tent with beer. we stood inside talking until a cop asked me where my wristband was. i showed him my ID and ran over to get a wristband so i could finish my beer and we could leave. i kept the wristband on because it said "bud light" and i felt like a badass.

in the woods after leaving the island, we flew along. i was doing somewhere between 62 and 65 (if i had to guess, and i have), speaking on my cell with a kid in kansas about the acc semifinal which was ending. a cop a half mile up ahead slowed and pulled off on the shoulder. we knew we were fucked and slowed down but as soon as we passed, he turned his lights on and followed us. we pulled off when we could. first time i'd ever gotten pulled or gotten a speeding ticket. said he clocked us at 70 in a 55 (bullshit) - and even gave a ticket to the car behind me even though he didn't clock them. in fact, in following me she'd set her cruise control at 62. not sure how we hit 70. he was a nice fellow, though, and i was strangely at calm through the entire process. paranoid out of my mind, though. court date is six hours away, at 9am on a school day. not sure how i'm going to finagle that yet. fortunately, the guy reminded me of my wristband, which i tore off and stuffed in my trashcan as he was walking up. that couldn't have helped any.

back to the matter at hand, though. after much rain and driving and eating of delicious barbeque, the three of us said goodbye to the other car, boarded mine, and set off for winston - four hours away. she didn't speak much, though, which made the trip home and off again a bit easier. halfway from raleigh to the dash, she requested to hear the two songs i'd played for her a couple weeks ago when we were driving alone to putters for food. two of my favorite third eye blind cuts from a decade ago. special songs, really. i played them, and, as i usually end up doing when i'm playing music for other people, really listened to it like i probably hadn't before. it's really almost perfect music. i knew she was enjoying it too.

about halfway through the second song, i glanced over and saw that the guy had fallen asleep. asleep, during this music. she was looking out the window into the night. she knows, i thought... or imagined. she knows he fell asleep during the songs, i thought, she knows that i'm the one with the music. she knows she should have chosen me. these are the kinds of thoughts i entertain. they don't really help anything. i managed to cling to these implausible beliefs for a little longer, until he woke up to her reaching past the seat and rubbing his leg. i sulked in the driver's seat, put my elbow on the windowsill and my head in my hand. she scratched his elbow and played with his fingers from the backseat. less than ten inches separated our three bodies. i could have swerved into traffic just to kill them both. we listened to the rest of the album in silence. they didn't deserve to hear it.

i'm caught between being civil and being mean. or even... between being civil and being, well, normal. i can't be normal, though. i can't pretend that well. i don't want to see her. i know it's probably pretty obvious but as long as nobody calls me out on it, well, i can ignore it. when we returned last night, we unpacked as we had packed: walking past each other without speaking. i don't know if she stayed in this apartment or not because i left with cokes and most of a fifth of captains and didn't return until 4am. his door was still closed. i don't think it opened again until five this evening. i don't know who was inside.

my saviour was a wonderful friend i hadn't gotten to speak to for a long time. i put on her florida gators sweatshirt and we lay close on her bed and talked about breaks, about life, and about the whole situation. she took my side, of course. even called the girl a bitch a couple times because of the way she'd treated me. it was wonderful. it helps to get it out. helps a lot. i met a couple more friends tonight who don't like her much either. i need to have a chat with them and see if those sentiments, in concert with the list of bad points i've made about her, is enough to kick me from her bandwagon. we shall see. it's a fairly shitty thing to do to a kid you once considered one of your closest friends, but it will have to do. i can't afford to give a shit about her anymore, especially if she's going to be spending nights in the next room.

i didn't see her again until tonight. she walked into our mutual friend's apt where i was hanging out with a couple kids. needed the girl's keys to get her stuff out of her car. fortunately she was with the kid from last semester and i was able to ignore her completely and strike up a conversation with him about gambling. they left. it will be interesting to see how this plays out.

...

do you ever get angry at happy people? they make me sick. this girl's roommate, who has a new boyfriend in virginia. she's all about smiley faces. i can't stand it.

today is st. patty's day. tonight will be good. some cool kids are visiting from pittsburgh soon, too. should be amazing. all these people who save my life. i love them.

i sent a message to the swede the other day but she hasn't responded. i think she's in berlin at the moment. i'll give it time. i have no idea what i want to happen at all. i just think it would be interesting to be in contact with her again.

i remembered today that a couple weeks ago, during a snowy period, i found myself alone in my apt with the girl's winter ski jacket. one with a lot of pockets. i wrote a note, a nutshell version being: "i don't know when you'll find this note. i hope you have a beautiful day. smile!" and my name. i stuffed it in an obscure pocket on the arm of the jacket and left it. i figured at the time she might not find it for months or years and i wondered what her reaction would be like. i was sure it would be a happy one but what of me? would we be friends? great friends? would she cry because she missed me at that moment? at this moment, i'm predicting mixed irony with flurries of regret. i can see it now, five years down the road she finds it, smiles, and when she sees the name... her heart stops for just one half beat.

optimistic... i know.