Oddly intimate moments
I had a string of oddly intimate moments today:
I saved seats on the train to day for a very gay twenty-something and his 9 inch zipper-taper legged jeans mother while they went to the dining car in perfect and content companionship.
I was talking to a girl in class, and I breathed in right as she exhaled deeply, so I breathed in her ex-breath. It was very weird, and not entirely good.
A friend of mine read me several pages from her journal.
My roommate fed me a biscuit straight from the oven while I blasted classical music on my computer.
Also (not intimate, but somewhat odd) I found I didn't get nervous switching trains in Philadelphia, or avoiding the creepy guy I kept lying to, or standing next to the VERY handsome man on the metro, but when I hit 24th street my heart began to pound and I almost wanted to go back. But I didn't.
I saved seats on the train to day for a very gay twenty-something and his 9 inch zipper-taper legged jeans mother while they went to the dining car in perfect and content companionship.
I was talking to a girl in class, and I breathed in right as she exhaled deeply, so I breathed in her ex-breath. It was very weird, and not entirely good.
A friend of mine read me several pages from her journal.
My roommate fed me a biscuit straight from the oven while I blasted classical music on my computer.
Also (not intimate, but somewhat odd) I found I didn't get nervous switching trains in Philadelphia, or avoiding the creepy guy I kept lying to, or standing next to the VERY handsome man on the metro, but when I hit 24th street my heart began to pound and I almost wanted to go back. But I didn't.