INCOMPATIBILITIES
Not sad, not at all, but things can't stay this way.
Vast and empty, full of gravel, overworked. Dragged through so many things I don't want to do. Everyone has evaporated.
Bisenyonil is a chore, so is A****yonil. But they are not only the other yonim I have-- they are the only other people I regularly see.
Walking up 5th, the weather cool and sunny, I imagined ****** ** ** the Office Christmas Party. The thought was nice and impossible, it made me feel indulgent. I think I am comforted by the impossibility: what if it was a looming inevitability? Would I be anxious? What would W**** have to say to **? I always imagine it would be fantastic, it would be wonderful. It might not be. I'll never know!
There's a vast, porous playground for dreams, but I rarely partake. I imagine B*****ka, I imagine myself saying nothing, being very demure. I imagine us liking each other.
If I take a moment to think about things like this, I get a little angry. I feel a little robbed.
I get a little angry thinking about the *****. "J*** ****** *** **** ******s," he says to me. But I am angry at the ghost, I don't want to go near it. This is how I respect it, by staying far away. Don't push my nose up into the ghost. I do not want to see it.
A pale gold color, like a wheat-color on a map, rivers shoelaced in blue, airplanes taking off. I want to kiss the flat ground of the airport.
***
MAY/JUNE
All alone at the sushi restaurant I read an article on my phone about how a ******** p***** can ** ***h a n*n********* ******.
"I am in terrible pain every day," says Mrs. X, 43 years old. "I have learned to deal with it, but it never goes away. It would be immoral to not cope, of course."
Oh my god! I am not interested in being like Mrs. X! It just sounds awful! I'd cut my losses!
In the Yidoma I forget about TOCP, I can't remember what I wanted to say about the article, but I express the gist anyways: I know what I'd do.
There is no use in saying it. He already knows what I would do.
I don't like thinking about it. I am generally very happy right now. Like a duck pair.
I cannot remember **O, barely, at all. Walking across the bridge he is all around me. I see the moon. I see the river and the skyline. Spread out on everything like mayonnaise on bread. I'm not devoted, I'm just walking along, **O.
In a week will be 11.
Vast and empty, full of gravel, overworked. Dragged through so many things I don't want to do. Everyone has evaporated.
Bisenyonil is a chore, so is A****yonil. But they are not only the other yonim I have-- they are the only other people I regularly see.
Walking up 5th, the weather cool and sunny, I imagined ****** ** ** the Office Christmas Party. The thought was nice and impossible, it made me feel indulgent. I think I am comforted by the impossibility: what if it was a looming inevitability? Would I be anxious? What would W**** have to say to **? I always imagine it would be fantastic, it would be wonderful. It might not be. I'll never know!
There's a vast, porous playground for dreams, but I rarely partake. I imagine B*****ka, I imagine myself saying nothing, being very demure. I imagine us liking each other.
If I take a moment to think about things like this, I get a little angry. I feel a little robbed.
I get a little angry thinking about the *****. "J*** ****** *** **** ******s," he says to me. But I am angry at the ghost, I don't want to go near it. This is how I respect it, by staying far away. Don't push my nose up into the ghost. I do not want to see it.
A pale gold color, like a wheat-color on a map, rivers shoelaced in blue, airplanes taking off. I want to kiss the flat ground of the airport.
***
MAY/JUNE
All alone at the sushi restaurant I read an article on my phone about how a ******** p***** can ** ***h a n*n********* ******.
"I am in terrible pain every day," says Mrs. X, 43 years old. "I have learned to deal with it, but it never goes away. It would be immoral to not cope, of course."
Oh my god! I am not interested in being like Mrs. X! It just sounds awful! I'd cut my losses!
In the Yidoma I forget about TOCP, I can't remember what I wanted to say about the article, but I express the gist anyways: I know what I'd do.
There is no use in saying it. He already knows what I would do.
I don't like thinking about it. I am generally very happy right now. Like a duck pair.
I cannot remember **O, barely, at all. Walking across the bridge he is all around me. I see the moon. I see the river and the skyline. Spread out on everything like mayonnaise on bread. I'm not devoted, I'm just walking along, **O.
In a week will be 11.