it's 6:49 am, on December 18, 2002 - counting up pieces.

~

in that crazy psycho way that we all like to be pretentious, last entry I forgot to mention where my flight from the rain actually took me. suffice it to say I'm back in Toronto.

Dex's -- I was going to type 'Dex', then 'bryant', then, I'm not even sure. He's one of those people who doesn't have a set name in my head, both of them are. Maybe we need people in our lives that we don't know the names of.

Or at least, we don't know what to call them.

I don't know why I can't sleep. Every day since I arrived I saw the sun rise out the window. The first night, being plastered and crying and working through stress, I was exposed, vulnerable. Last night I was alone, thinking.

Tonight almost feels sad, except it shouldn't.

My fondest wish in this entire world, have I told this story? I think I have, over and over. It's still a caravan, anyway, so I guess it still has relevence.

I know Mel's name. Kelly's. Ashlan's. I don't know yours, or yours. I'm unsure of many, and the names I do know have other pieces missing.

Sizeable chunks, perhaps, but never a whole? this apartment has a fair chunk. Actually, maybe most of my insides could be accounted for with a summation of apartments and the insides of cars.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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