//oo2: the charming optimism of a subject line beginning with a three digit number.
I managed to lose my password. Actually, I hadn't lost it. I had it right but as this thing insisted that I put in a number or symbol, I added one of those and promptly forgot where. Then there was the whole work thing and a series of events best described as out of the ordinary. My legs are killing me, and so are these full strength fags, and I mean that in every sense of the phrase.
I hate the hum of electronics in my room when it's quiet. I used to ride the white noise of breathing over it, but there wasn't anyone there for a while. Then suddenly, a reprieve. I told him I could hear the high pitched squeal of the television in the next room, and the whirr of the laptop on the desk and the hiss of the speakers even on standby. He made a little face that dropped ten years off his apparent age and scooted up to me and pulled me close enough to rest on his shoulder and sang to me, just like that. Not a second's hesitation, not even a clearing of the throat. He just sang, songs I hadn't heard before then. Three of them, at least I think there were only three. The middle of the second had this Arabic bend that was so beautiful, it pulled my eyes shut and pushed me into a plush sleep.
I don't know why it surprises me that he'd do something like that. He's always been gentle, even if it was just between bouts of condoned violence. I knew that he had it in him, but I suppose it was just that I didn't expect it to be with me. We're friends, but he made me feel blanketed in love and didn't stop until I left, bruised and cut from our construction based horseplay the next afternoon, and smiling like a Cadillac.
He says things like, don't fall in love, and I'm just a liability and it's all just a coincidence of time and place. I know he's beautiful and just as impossible to capture as the moon and I think there's enough silver for everyone to bask in. I wish I'd known him my whole life so I wouldn't have doubted certain things about the world along the way.
And now I'm roaming. And he's got me on Turkish cigarettes that I can't find in the corner shops.
I need places to visit, and recommendations for the best wines under twenty dollars. The lists always change.
I hate the hum of electronics in my room when it's quiet. I used to ride the white noise of breathing over it, but there wasn't anyone there for a while. Then suddenly, a reprieve. I told him I could hear the high pitched squeal of the television in the next room, and the whirr of the laptop on the desk and the hiss of the speakers even on standby. He made a little face that dropped ten years off his apparent age and scooted up to me and pulled me close enough to rest on his shoulder and sang to me, just like that. Not a second's hesitation, not even a clearing of the throat. He just sang, songs I hadn't heard before then. Three of them, at least I think there were only three. The middle of the second had this Arabic bend that was so beautiful, it pulled my eyes shut and pushed me into a plush sleep.
I don't know why it surprises me that he'd do something like that. He's always been gentle, even if it was just between bouts of condoned violence. I knew that he had it in him, but I suppose it was just that I didn't expect it to be with me. We're friends, but he made me feel blanketed in love and didn't stop until I left, bruised and cut from our construction based horseplay the next afternoon, and smiling like a Cadillac.
He says things like, don't fall in love, and I'm just a liability and it's all just a coincidence of time and place. I know he's beautiful and just as impossible to capture as the moon and I think there's enough silver for everyone to bask in. I wish I'd known him my whole life so I wouldn't have doubted certain things about the world along the way.
And now I'm roaming. And he's got me on Turkish cigarettes that I can't find in the corner shops.
I need places to visit, and recommendations for the best wines under twenty dollars. The lists always change.