9-1-1

Today, a bit out of nowhere, a boy I don't know terribly well told me he felt like he understood me. This probably sounds really presumptuous and obnoxious, but it wasn't, actually, at least not coming from him. Just sort of nice. May have something to do with once overhearing him say he also went through a phase of dressing like Elliott Smith in middle school.

By the way, I've been meaning to ask you if you've ever read Bernadette Mayer's "The Way to Keep Going in Antarctica." It's an awfully good poem to read and remember, to carry the words around with you in case of emergency.

So It Goes

Lately writing here feels a bit like a crossword puzzle or a magic trick; it's something that wants to be solved. Wondering whether or not there is a graceful way of uncovering secrets, and how to tell you everything without letting my insides hang out.

This probably sounds terribly negative, but I promise I don't mean it that way at all.

Happy Valentine's Day.