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.