Thirdsock

I love the feeling that you can plan for sixty years from now, and grow, hopefully, very old with someone. That you can travel with them everywhere and anywhere, and you do. You have a big, long list of experiences to go through, and you chip away at it as fast as you add to it. I write him letters sometimes, that say 'open in 2013, 2014,' and so forth. They're love letters, and time capsules, of everything that's going on in our lives in the present. I hid twenty dollar bills in winter jacket pockets' sometimes now that it's still hot out, and they're packed in boxes, with little notes wishing him a good day, just in case I can't be ther

It's an odd feeling when someone you used to know dies, especially when they're young. It's even odder when it brings up nothing but the negative emotions they left you with. They had tried to get back in touch with me only a few weeks ago. "It's taken a lot, but I think I've turned my life around and fixed everything. I just wanted to say hello and see how you were doing." I told him that's great and all, but never speak to me again, I thought I told you that. And that was it. So long, I never even really knew you. I hope you're at peace now, I guess. I've got to go live my life while I've still got it.

What a fine day. Early morning late night, every night, but I take a beautiful walk past the woods and smell the flowers a few times a day, and after that I sometimes think when I have free time again I'm going to die a dramatic death from ennui, but until then, well, see you later alligators.