so I hear you. I m not going to use the idiom I feel you, because language is colorful enough. Sometimes it really doesnt matter who hears what the hell you want the universe, your friends, your boss, family, inter(actors) to know. Chances are, everybody knows everything they are just too busy trying to be the first, most quotable and the loudest to get there. I wish you were here. Or I was there. And the internet was back inside and we were just walking to Del Taco to eat and talk shit on the steps of the church around the corner. The postcard memories and the half steps on the stairs on a dark night, half rememberances of things present and fading. We make each other happen. The handicap of an aracade game, this quarter will last forever.
So resolve to be better. To be the potential our high school selves laughed at and authority encouraged. Get fit, live right, be the joke of every dysfunctional comedy. At least they are laughing. So the first impression or the epitaph. Every obituary adjective a badge of honor and embellishment.
I love you.
the walk to work
1 comment:
"we make each other happen." damn. i hope to one day inspire such feeling...hopefully in someone equally eloquent.
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