gentlemen, gentlemen.
i'm the kind of student who gets recruited by teachers whose classes i am failing.
to whom i have proven...?
the subject of conversations. still? good.
1. or.
2. or.
3. or.
chewing on the double-barrelled tea straw (it's always something).
"are you nervous?" [asks a boy]
"um. in general...?"
"no. you were moving a lot."
"oh. i have a song stuck in my head. but yeah, i'm nervous; i'm a pretty nervous person i guess. probably right now."
"ah. well. me too, i guess. i have a presentation. i guess i'm pretty nervous too; that's alright."
(i know the rule, but sometimes it's not like that. sometimes i meet people and we pretend that's our dialect, that it belongs particularly to the space between the places we come from, that everybody else may be truly wrong but we are...what? cultural. something vague and special.)
reading our homework to katie while she did her room-mate's dishes last night. it wasn't meant to be heard. they are mostly like that. that's hard to get over. i'm sorry for my softness; i do like to be alone, but i came here to have conversations, to spend time with people's faces, and there's always wanting more of that, never such a desire for the lonely text.
there's a risk that you'll find a way to fix me and i'll never know where i was going.
(1)
there's a risk that i will get where i am going and it will be the most obvious place after all.
i must trust me, if i believe that you can.
i must love me, if i think i ought to accept your love.
i keep secrets without providing surprises. they must just like the suspense.
(hey, that's what i said.)
you think i'm right about something?
in theatre we all find a way out. they're my words, but you said them. (2) it's not my fault; i only read it.
(we don't say that. we love these things.)
they can be: pores, cracks, canyons, gaps, leaks, oversights, underground escape routes.
3 for. well. you have your preferred version.
to whom i have proven...?
the subject of conversations. still? good.
1. or.
2. or.
3. or.
chewing on the double-barrelled tea straw (it's always something).
"are you nervous?" [asks a boy]
"um. in general...?"
"no. you were moving a lot."
"oh. i have a song stuck in my head. but yeah, i'm nervous; i'm a pretty nervous person i guess. probably right now."
"ah. well. me too, i guess. i have a presentation. i guess i'm pretty nervous too; that's alright."
(i know the rule, but sometimes it's not like that. sometimes i meet people and we pretend that's our dialect, that it belongs particularly to the space between the places we come from, that everybody else may be truly wrong but we are...what? cultural. something vague and special.)
reading our homework to katie while she did her room-mate's dishes last night. it wasn't meant to be heard. they are mostly like that. that's hard to get over. i'm sorry for my softness; i do like to be alone, but i came here to have conversations, to spend time with people's faces, and there's always wanting more of that, never such a desire for the lonely text.
there's a risk that you'll find a way to fix me and i'll never know where i was going.
(1)
there's a risk that i will get where i am going and it will be the most obvious place after all.
i must trust me, if i believe that you can.
i must love me, if i think i ought to accept your love.
i keep secrets without providing surprises. they must just like the suspense.
(hey, that's what i said.)
you think i'm right about something?
in theatre we all find a way out. they're my words, but you said them. (2) it's not my fault; i only read it.
(we don't say that. we love these things.)
they can be: pores, cracks, canyons, gaps, leaks, oversights, underground escape routes.
3 for. well. you have your preferred version.