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Be$er than nothing at all.
In my twenty-‐first year
I got pre$y good at public transporta;on, Ya know.
Because, no one wants to travel with me. Maybe.
*
Do You mesh your mold to meet your friends?
Are you You with screaming fans? Or do You mesh your mold to meet You demands?
What do you think they want from you? What do you think I want from you?
* *
What is in me that is different from you? “When all we have to do is touch”
What is in me that is different from you?
I had to try not to say “I’ll meet you at home” Because
It wasn’t my home. But it could have been for the ;me being
“When all we have to do is touch.”
* * *
Come si chiama, bello?
When the car in front of you is turning leL you wanna make sure you’re behind them and wait for them to turn. Ooooooooh.
Excuse me, what’s your darkest beer? TAHP, TAap, DrahL, DRAFT, whatever. I can always go out tomorrow night
Please keep me safe.
Do you think I should invest in an umbrella hat for my bike and I dear?
Seemingly flat shot. Mountains is someone in the distance
with a skinny, handsome monument on one in par;cular.
Gap teeth and sweet accents. Friendly bikers know I suck at traffic.
When you travel on your own, what are you really afraid of? Have you not been afraid, and are fearful that you will be?
To Music, all of England ma;ers.
•
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So yea, maybe I am by myself, Cold, Wet.
Kinda lost… Wish he were here.
BUT
* * * * *
They spoke to me.
Should I stop doing that? No.
“You know I realized how much I’ve put into this to come see you. Can I just like, hang out with you guys?”
Why, that’s all you had to say.
“There is probably somebody out there just like me, probably keeping to themselves.”
His sweat-‐drenched shirt touched mine. He liked what I said about it feeling more like we were both in the pool.
“To my new friend who goes to school in Rhode Island, RHODE ISLAND! “I’m sure our paths will cross again, I have a good feeling about it.”
Did you even remember my name?
I’m damp as a dog. So I guess it does rain in England.
._ ._ ._ ._ . _. _. _. _ . _ . _ . _ . _ ._ ._ _. _. _ . _ ... _ ._ ._ ._ ._ . _ _ . _ . _ ._ _ . ._ ._ ._ _.
* * *
Yesterday sucked hard. Yesterday hurt so badly I didn’t want to feel.
Yesterday I wore all black. Yesterday I listened to a lot of emo punk music.
Yesterday I didn’t want to eat. Yesterday I s;fled back tears for 15 whole hours.
Yesterday I considered pecness.
Today I walked a lot. Oh.
Today I did yoga. Today I think I laughed.
Today I didn’t listen to emo punk music. Today I wore some more colors than usual.
Today I got lost but then found my des;na;on. Today I had a salad. Today I showered.
Today he messaged me.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
When I’m fiLy I will wear linen tunics. When I’m fiLy I will have white hair and be a different ethnicity. When I’m fiLy I will wear a nicer watch and a wedding ring.
When I’m fiLy I will be saying something confidently. When I’m fiLy things will feel great
*
Perché a volte, sto a$raversando una rivelazione in cui mi rendo conto di tomorrow è un altro ven;qua$ro hour parte del mio future.
Una realizzazione che manana non deve essere una misura pressante conce$uale, più grande di ven;cua$ro horas.
Mi sto rendendo conto che oggi è anche solo un ven;cua$ro hour trozo della mia vida, e che ci possono essere mol; più chunks a venire. Ques; pezzi non sono i chunks finali,
che genere di schifo per realizzare, a volte.
Because some;mes I’m going through a revela;on in which I realize Domani is another twenty four ore propor;on of my futuro. A realiza;on that manana does not have to be a pressingly Conceptual measurement, larger than twenty four horas.
I’m realizing that today is also only a twenty four hour Trozo of my vida , and that there may be many more Pezzi to come. These chunks are not the final pezzi,
Which kind of sucks to realize, some;mes.
Porque a veces me voy por un revelta;on en el que me doy cuenta de Que domani es otra vein;cuatro ore propor;on de mi futuro.
Una realizición que tomorrow no ;ene que ser una medición apremiante Conceptual, mayor de veinte cuatro hours.
Me estoy dando cuenta de que hoy en día está a un trozo de vein;cuatro Ore chunk de mi vida, y que puede haber muchas más Pezzi de venir. Estos trozos no son los chunks finals,
Que apesta a dares cuenta, a veces.
* * * * *
Is this deep enough for you? “And you are the reason I’m smiling when there is nothing to smile about.”
Someone here is all the love I need, I need not another. It’s 9:30 and beau;ful in the morning on September 11th.
There’s a bench.
Then I must be allowed To sit here.
I love the courtyard, I love the walk around, the moss fountain. Is it a tree or a rock but a mountain of moss. I love the small benches and small light posts, Under tall trees, serious pines, with kind cones,
Like the Italian men keeping the ground. I love the columns:
Visual play between lamp, Tree,
Column, Doorway. I wish it were night.
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