Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Not Fall(ing) Anymore

As much as I long for the winter and miss it, I am terrified of the leaves leaving. Once they are gone there will be nothing but long elegant bare fingers pointing me out to the world. Pointing at me and telling everyone where I am.

But I don't have to hide anymore. Not that I had a valid reason before, but now I have a reason not to.

I know, I confuse myself sometimes.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

In Case You Were Wondering, I Had A Great Time.

Making conversation over dinner by asking someone about how they had liked living in the South, and receiving the expected response: Not very much at all, thank you. Somehow or other this prompts someone else to remark on how extremely little I ever say about myself.

I look around the table and they're all nodding somberly in agreement, staring at me like I'm some sort of master of international espionage. I try to explain that it's not secretiveness, but merely a desire to not tell what doesn't want to be heard. This must seem as good an invitation as any, because then the questions start. Where did I grow up, What highschool did I attend, What am I majoring in, What's my favorite book?

Deadeye Dick, I say, not because it's true, but because The Diary of Anne Frank sounds like too much and The Bell Jar doesn't sound like enough.

After spaghetti was perfectly aimed and thrown to hit the ceiling, the laughter began and I began to think about how amazing it is to be surprised. That making friends was just so much easier than I had expected it to be. I'm not sure if I am surprised by other people's perceptiveness or by my own oblivion, but either way it's a humbling thing.

Friday, October 7, 2005

I Am The Old Man And You Were The Swordfish.

Let's discuss long lost friendships--you were my best friend, companion, savior. I remember calling you crying over an aching heart and somehow you were there, and I spent the night in your bed instead of my kitchen table.

So it's possible I associate you with a lot of things.

Like being normal. I miss you a lot.

Saturday, October 1, 2005

Pssst

To rectify the glaring lack of entries pertaining to the boy who believes that this journal is a bit too revealing but would also like to know just why, exactly, he isn't ever mentioned:

Look, you exist.