the dropout

when i first suspected, i was a lone ranger counting days and wondering how dark your soul was. i imagined you leaning, bending over sink-tops, legs sprawled on sofas and friends watching him devour your inner workings and before long after long hours of waiting (it's hard to count time when you're not sure if you're really breathing or not) but it seemed so long, and just an instant and you were talking to me telling me things and about how this was this and that was that and so much like my imaginings it turned out to be.

usually, with things like this, you imagine horrors worse than any fate. i did. it was.

2004-06-23 | 7:12 p.m.
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