I'm sorry our calls have been slow. I know you'd apologize to me for the same thing, but don't. It's really nobody's fault, but I'll take the blame, anyway. I hope it's not an omen, that this is the beginning of us not talking. If you've noticed that I've suddenly picked up making the jokes about "getting a new e-girl", know those are very intentional. I'm afraid of that being true. That doesn't mean I'm anti-making new friends if you're worried that's what I mean, I just don't want to stop talking to you. I really don't think we will stop talking though. We've put too much into this. But still, I don't want to leave you.
-
I'm worried about you. I know you'll tell me not to, but I can't help it. Neither of us can. I'd hug you but I'm in another country. I wish there was something I could do. It shouldn't have to be like this.
-
I'm suddenly kind of bummed out again. I don't know if it's worthy of even jokingly suggesting busting out the D-word for it, but it's strange enough. Nothing really prompted it. The last month and a half have been the best and most interesting they have been in a long time. I've been doing so much, but I feel weird now that I'm going something full-time. The other day I felt particularly strange, like I had just been told life-ruining news but had no idea what the news was - the inability to articulate what I was feeling adding to the malaise. I left my last class that day a tad bit geniunely disgruntled that I probably only got a B on the quiz for the fucking course outline, as if that will be consequential to my grade at all (I can get extremely competitive with marks). I waited for my new friend Dalai Schneeweis in the library as I read some of the course reading I was told to finish earlier but forgot to somehow. In between that, I would doomscroll on COVID denialist pages, listening to Have A Nice Life and thinking about where I went wrong. I thought about the Umar Johnson video where he says "All A's and B's, no C's and D's", which made me relax a bit about being so anal about the most inconsequential quiz I'll take this year. I realized Maddie was home alone, so I called off hanging out with Dalai to look after her, which I was almost relieved about, but I stopped wondering about it once I got into the car. I put on Vacation, because my chest began to hurt with all the doomscrolling I was doing. I got home, grabbed an iced tea that made my stomach hurt, and laid on the grass with Maddie and starred at the sky while reading bits and pieces of The City in The Middle of The Night, now committed to calming down. I thought going for a run would to the trick. It did, but the state of the world didn't change.
But I've been fine. These first few weeks of college have been actually fun and cool in the best way. It'll become work, and I didn't sign up for it thinking it wouldn't be, but it'll be interesting, which is what matters.
-
(This is a excerpt from one of the bigger posts I've left untouched for a few weeks. It's from the part where I talk about what I did during the New Student Orientation at my college and it's the only part that that I wrote that I like.)
A perky woman who I couldn't tell was my age or way older came up to me and asked if I could sign a petition for her. My first instinct was to confidently protest, "For what and for whom??", but that got scrambled with my innate hesitation, so that got translated out as a long "Um", long enough for her to tell me "You don't have to sign it if you don't want to."
I'm too nice, so I said "Sure. I will. Why not?"
She gave out an acidically bubbly "Thank you so much!"
I put down my student ID, which she commented that nobody knew theirs off-top yet as I pulled out my card to copy off of it, then I literally scribbled my name in the signature section. She asked what my major was, to which I blurted out "English in Bachelor's of Education", sprinkled with subdued stutters and uh-ing in my modestly deep radio voice to give it a flavour of new kid awkwardness. I asked her what she was doing, and she said "Social work." I gave her a "Hmm. I'll probably see you around", knowing full well that I would easily never see her again, and sent myself off more than her just to get somewhere else. I wondered if I was being an asshole to compensate for the insecurity which I was quickly realized I didn't bury as deep as I hoped I did.
-
(I wrote this weird shit while I was kind of drunk the other night. I never finished it.)
I have this hunched and patient melancholy that's been looking at me through the cracks of the floorboards of the rooms I've been hanging out in these last few weeks. It's got eyes like a worried teenager, frowning up at me in silence knowing I know what it means by the look in its eyes. It's piercing. It doesn't want to come up, so I go to it. I used to go down to give it a bowl despite its hands, but it never ate what I gave it. At least it I never saw it eat. I don't think I saw it eat.
It knows it will have to come up from downstairs eventually. It's not up to it or me. It's up to the water, which is what it's downstairs waiting for.
It'll hang on to its forearms in shame as it shuffles through the flooded hallways when the water rises past the basement ceiling. I'll give it some boots and a bed to itself. I'd console it if it would only listen to me. Neither of us would probably have the gull to talk about this, however. We'd sleep like shift work.
It doesn't have a mouth. The sclera of its eyes are yellow and neither of them have an iris: big sad pupils dolt around obstructed by the
-
Abimael Guzmán died today. I have some of his books. I didn't know how to feel about it as I was waiting in the provincial building to register to vote.
-
9/11/21
No amount of not looking can stop something that was meant to break.
-
First as Tragedy...
9/11 was 20 years ago today. I listened to some shit about it. Growing up, I was fascinated by it, because it the point in the history of my part of the world where everything changed into being how I knew it. I've been thinking about how someone then would think of now, being that every day for the last 18 months is like 9/11 all over the world. This pace will only pick up, so I cannot imagine how things will be in another 20 years, with the water wars, famine, fascists and all. The 2040s will certainly be fun years.
-
I'm going to go for a bike ride. Then I'm going to write, then I'm going to read, then it will start to make sense. If I keep at it, it will all start to make sense.
