shelter, shelter, won't you rescue me / my soul has fallen from the sky
"No offense, Will, but I wish Thomas was doing this instead of you... For obvious reasons."
"You know, I basically took over his job position." I laughed, my own mental processes exposing themselves by a bemused titter. "What's so funny?"
"You didn't step into all of his job positions," and at this I fell into a fit of giggles, covering my face to hide the hints of violet rushing past the crimson blushing. "Besides," I slowed, gasping for air, "There's just some ways you can't ~work it~."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He paused a moment, cocking a brow before turning to look at me, the first time in this conversation. "And how would you know?"
"I just know, alright. He's the perfect height, for one. And his eyelashes were the perfect length."
"Well, he didn't exactly give me a to-do list..." That was the end of my speaking, for I couldn't stop laughing. Even he started laughing, once he realized the double entendre. "So you were a 'pet project' of his, huh?" He crossed his arms, far more amused by all of this than from the onset.
Granted, I had confided in him some because he had undergone the same drama, and I trust confidence in turn for confidence.
As I leap-frogged and crept around the wet-waxed section of "Action Alley" to fetch a 2-liter in full view of the customer who requested it, we three being the only people around, I shouted to him, "I miss him complaining about the wax ruining his Nikes, I miss him making Joe actually work, I miss seeing him a bajillion times a night and wondering how or why, I miss... Here you go, ma'am. Hey, have a good night, alright?"
I walk back to what I was doing and Will pops around a corner. "You miss him." The uplift inflection at the end made me slow what I was doing, take notice, and look back at him from my stilled hands.
I nodded.
I'm still alive, friends. This journal feels like a dirty bed to me, which is why I've been kinda distant with it, I believe. I'll be back soon. I'd like this journal to progress again, to be more about discovering and understanding new mundanaities, than a chronicle of heartbreak and hopes-up-getting and unrequited love. My entire life hasn't been this way.
I want to inspire you, because I love you, and inspiration is the best gift anyone can bequeath.
Even Penny Lane, while a beautiful and charming muse, was confounded by how lonesome she felt with such a busied life.
"You know, I basically took over his job position." I laughed, my own mental processes exposing themselves by a bemused titter. "What's so funny?"
"You didn't step into all of his job positions," and at this I fell into a fit of giggles, covering my face to hide the hints of violet rushing past the crimson blushing. "Besides," I slowed, gasping for air, "There's just some ways you can't ~work it~."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He paused a moment, cocking a brow before turning to look at me, the first time in this conversation. "And how would you know?"
"I just know, alright. He's the perfect height, for one. And his eyelashes were the perfect length."
"Well, he didn't exactly give me a to-do list..." That was the end of my speaking, for I couldn't stop laughing. Even he started laughing, once he realized the double entendre. "So you were a 'pet project' of his, huh?" He crossed his arms, far more amused by all of this than from the onset.
Granted, I had confided in him some because he had undergone the same drama, and I trust confidence in turn for confidence.
As I leap-frogged and crept around the wet-waxed section of "Action Alley" to fetch a 2-liter in full view of the customer who requested it, we three being the only people around, I shouted to him, "I miss him complaining about the wax ruining his Nikes, I miss him making Joe actually work, I miss seeing him a bajillion times a night and wondering how or why, I miss... Here you go, ma'am. Hey, have a good night, alright?"
I walk back to what I was doing and Will pops around a corner. "You miss him." The uplift inflection at the end made me slow what I was doing, take notice, and look back at him from my stilled hands.
I nodded.
I'm still alive, friends. This journal feels like a dirty bed to me, which is why I've been kinda distant with it, I believe. I'll be back soon. I'd like this journal to progress again, to be more about discovering and understanding new mundanaities, than a chronicle of heartbreak and hopes-up-getting and unrequited love. My entire life hasn't been this way.
I want to inspire you, because I love you, and inspiration is the best gift anyone can bequeath.
Click to viewEven Penny Lane, while a beautiful and charming muse, was confounded by how lonesome she felt with such a busied life.