always tomorrow
Yesterday included. My desire to listen to the Smiths. Realizing that in life everyone (well, of a certain sort) comes to a place where they must listen to the Smiths. And that is me as of Saturday night. And I feel amazing about it. A walk on paths through the forest. Attempting to understand about dams and locks and their connection to each other. Listening to the Weakerthans. Sitting in a hot room that became increacingly less hot as time progressed. I don't know how it happened. The favourites game. He is perplexed that I am both red and blue. But believes this is the case. Missing the potluck everyone is talking about. Missing those I miss. But driving all the way to Lansdowne Street for A&W Rootbeer. And the discovery that they had Rootbeer floats. A shortcut home. Edward Scissorhands. Sleeping, napping. So the most incredible.
Saturday included. Nervousness. Everything came together though. A talk with Gabriel in which he acknowledged changes in me that he would see differently than everyone else. And coming to understand Gabriel slightly more. He is often complex. And not understood. I want to share with him more. At the party so much was happening that I wasn't a part of. Lots of boys. Some high on mushrooms. Some that were just stoned. And the ones who drank lots of beer. And the funnel. I was outside of it, but I think I was ok with that. Satisfied with that. A trip to the Night Kitchen. More Champlain kids, one who found my prettiest whitest shirt.
Today has included. A letter from Taylor. I miss Taylor and was glad to hold something that had come directly from him to me. My first bit of mail at 452 Park Street North. I intend to write him soon. It was up to him to begin. I read the letter in the heat of the morning that I thought would be cold, standing listening to the Smiths waiting for a lecture outside Traill. He expressed his love for Trent. And Trent he has only experienced rarely. And he understands, probably more than some who are here. And it made me smile to read his writing of Trent.
And still to come. A trip to the record store.
Saturday included. Nervousness. Everything came together though. A talk with Gabriel in which he acknowledged changes in me that he would see differently than everyone else. And coming to understand Gabriel slightly more. He is often complex. And not understood. I want to share with him more. At the party so much was happening that I wasn't a part of. Lots of boys. Some high on mushrooms. Some that were just stoned. And the ones who drank lots of beer. And the funnel. I was outside of it, but I think I was ok with that. Satisfied with that. A trip to the Night Kitchen. More Champlain kids, one who found my prettiest whitest shirt.
Today has included. A letter from Taylor. I miss Taylor and was glad to hold something that had come directly from him to me. My first bit of mail at 452 Park Street North. I intend to write him soon. It was up to him to begin. I read the letter in the heat of the morning that I thought would be cold, standing listening to the Smiths waiting for a lecture outside Traill. He expressed his love for Trent. And Trent he has only experienced rarely. And he understands, probably more than some who are here. And it made me smile to read his writing of Trent.
And still to come. A trip to the record store.