(no subject)
Today I sat on the sidewalk of Exchange St. with old friends who I never knew too well to begin with. It was pleasent. I felt fine around them. I went to BNG and bought a black coffee, a truffle, and a cookie that I gave away the minute I could. It was all allright, I suppose. I wrote a third draft for a story I'm working on, it's going to be a gift for some one who's never been given anything. I still can't adjust to being in Portland, and now I wonder if I ever will. It's not scary or threatening though. It just is. I don't think that's bad. I feel weird and it's ok, I knew I would. I'm actually ready to go back to Poultney fuck nowhere Tuesday. But I'm really excited about going to Deering for a brief surprise visit. I want to see so many of my old teachers. I don't even know why.
In response to what everyone is screaming in unison:
"Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them just trust in anything that might give it to them."
-carson mccullers.
And I left the art materials for my mid term in my dorm. I'm not even upset about it.
In response to what everyone is screaming in unison:
"Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them just trust in anything that might give it to them."
-carson mccullers.
And I left the art materials for my mid term in my dorm. I'm not even upset about it.