Tuesday, December 4, 2007

deer might fly why not: i met you

i am listening to an album by a band called the weepies. do you know about them? did i forget to check my culturemeter before i left for work this morning, last week, when i was twenty-four? probably. they win in my book. i listen to them and see you and talk to my brother and watch italian food on mute and the dog circles around and every so often says, so....are we going to bed yet? no? okay i'll eat some more of the carpet and wait and so....are we going to bed yet?

and you, my friend, i am afraid to call you my friend. how do i find myself again in this place, afraid, and i think, what in the good God's name made me so afraid? i know the answer but i make up others in my head and wish it was more that it was but know nothing could be more than that, than the truth, so little of which i've shared with you, my friend, but all of it you know.

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