compost
i was always really capable with using my imagination. i wasn't allowed video games and my sister and i were the only two children in the general neighborhood. so i played alone in the backyard alot and spoke to myself and sometimes sang. and when i went to bed i made up little shop girl stories in my head, and in the bath i still pretend people are interviewing me or i'm going through the itterneray of my fantastic life with blueprints of future houses and certain antiques that will cover each square foot. when i got older and i moved out of my parents house i became excellent at reflecting on my pastr and bringing up inscendent nostalgia about ex lovers and friends. about dead relatives and playground etiquitte. things seemed very sunny in the burlingame house when i look abck and i like thinking about the brick wall with the studs thta made it look like a card of diamonds or the old farm house covered up by the big palm tree. its all over now all those stages. i think i struggle to hang on to the old one during each of my new ones and when i'm not i'm thinking dreamily into my victorian mansion. it all melts together though into some hybrid that i am in the present. and today as i bussed tables when my plans had all gone wrong dure to andrew's switching of shifts and he had to work instead and i had to sink into the fake wood floor i spilt a bunch of old coffee everywhere and then almost ran the compost bin into his head by accident and i made my exit leavoing my bike behind as the sun was warm and i new i had to sleep through it and dream about luxury and about that strange boy alex hayes who was all deformed and british and talked tediously about animal planet at the museum. i wonder of people will notice in the pictures from the christmas party where my hand was as i gazed downwards. i wonder sometimes if people read me better than i think they do and thats why no one ever asks me impertinent questions b/c they already know? they know all this and it bores them but thats self obsessed isn't matthew because you're always self obsessed because you're usually alone excpet when someones there and thats when you can't think of anything you acctually wanted to say to do or let someone feel because your head is all filled with fantasy and regrets or haunts and its all lost there.