(no subject)
Tonight - the post-work half of the day - has so far consisted of reading about Belle & Sebastian, and I'm through two bottles of Boone's Farms, which makes me think of Nathan, and we might be going to do karaoke somewhere (and did you know that the -oke part is an abbreviated form of the word "orchestra" in Japanese?) and I'm thinking about Apryl and wondering what happened at the end of The American Astronaut and listening to old songs that take me back to high school and thinking a lot about Stuart Murdoch and how he's a genuine hero of mine, and kind of regretting going crazy listening to Pornography and cutting my hair, but I just felt so unreasonably depressed on the drive home that night from her house, listening to Another Blue Door, and I think I'd hit a high that night, co-driving home, and the fabric of my brain couldn't process such sudden and uncharacteristic enjoyment and countered it with a sudden down, and I should buy one or two pairs of corduroys because I don't have anything I can wear to work anymore, and money's actually looking up for once, and I might actually be able to get my phone turned back on, and Sarah Hamilton apparently got a text message through despite the phone being off that said, simply, "Lipgloss?", and I couldn't even begin to think of how to reply to that, and I wish my dreams of recording music hadn't been dashed months or years ago, and now Ben Folds is swearing and it still sounds beautiful, and there's those keyboards, and I suddenly love everything, and I am going to
call her tomorrow.
call her tomorrow.