Who cares if the flowers are evil? Put them on gorgeous display in a sunny window and love their adorable, ineffective maleficence.
Kira invited me over to J&H for Fourth Meal around eight tonight. Sure, I'd already eaten, still had homework, and wore sockless mocks in the chilly rain, but "if I have an invite, I'm not going to waste my time in a dorm." After trudging the three blocks to J&H, I had some mozzarella sticks, smiled for reminiscing, and talked to Kira for a good three hours. Despite my enjoyable activities, I'd been having a real poop couple of days. I'd kept my wits about me and didn't let it progress, recognizing the shitty weather and lingering emotions, but I still felt down. By some inexplicable process, eating junk food and laughing made me warm and fuzzy all over.
I <3 Cathexis, but it's scary sometimes for everything you might lose.
There is no Wikipedia article I could find about the act of "missing someone." I should think there would be a whole article or at least some fancy Latin terms to denote this integral human experience.
I think about driving away from MOJO13 listening to The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot. Think about sitting in a packed car with Viv and my whole world in the driveway. Think about packing my whole world in a car with a trunk 74 cubic Trishas big. Think about screaming "make me feel tiny if it makes you feel tall" and what large asses we were, I was. Think about quietly singing Bitches Ain't Shit in the business district of NYC, trying not to get shot. Think about trying not to cry on the ride back from NYC, the only person awake except for the person I desperately wanted to be, and the person I desperately wanted to be with. Think about falling asleep as the person I'd always wanted to be with the only person I wanted to be with. Think about who I am, who I've been, who I've loved, and who I've cried for. Thinking 'bout you.
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