it's 10:23 pm, on March 28, 2006 - imagined loss.

~

sadness clings;
like that tacky Elmer's glue from second grade that got under your fingernails and onto your fingertips and stuck your
hands together, and warmed up between your skin.

just like static.

after the teacher yells, you wash your hands with soap, and dry your hands, and wonder
what it was, anyway, that you wanted to stick.

-

I don't know what that was, other than impromptu lines - a few things, a fragment of sensation, nothing more. I cannot wait until I'm on a plane and I have someone to distract me from thinking quite so hard. Apparently I liked work, apparently I liked a lot of things I didn't realize at the time.

I was transcribing a story off a box that Al sent me - it had a Lance and Joey story on it, and I didn't want to lose the story even as my heart broke when I recycled the box - and it had this line: "the grief of imagined loss". I picture that describing those things you mourn for wondering whether you had them or not; those things you think about when they're gone and aren't quite sure you ever had the right to miss.

I'm not sure what this entry might have to offer the world at large. Perhaps it doesn't, perhaps it is another example of how everyone can be summed up in a trite phrase, and mine is about the resentment of intense sensations.

I have a playlist called "back in the day", and it has a lot of songs that I used to listen to in college. all those sad, melancholy tracks that weren't good for anything except faux introspection and late nights, all those lonely voices in the night, they're all gathered up in one place. I want to call it "you make me crazy", except the first song is radiohead's "you do it to yourself."

I don't know why all these thoughts are crashing together, except I totally do. it is what it is, I guess.

~

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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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