Goodnight, sleep tight, find something right tonight.
Easter weekend could have been better, had it not involved an awful fight with my parents.
However, it was really wonderful, seeing Craig and all. Sometimes I forget how good it feels to spend time with him. Conversation is so easy, and there is a closeness, a history, and mirrored respiration that I don't find in other people. An equal-opposite reaction to our actions. And we spent so long at Zaxbys remembering silly little things I had almost forgotten, that only existed in journals on pages in ink... Fuddruckers and laser tag and gossiping about you. Holding hands and kissing other boys because I knew you were watching. Kissing in vans. Whispers of some gentle consolation. Bumpy rides with rigid seats and forgetting where we are, ignoring it. I never forget missing you. I forget how it feels.
This summer will fly by too quickly.
I am struggling researching Talib Kweli's The Beautiful Struggle. I can't really find any academia on him. It's sucky. Google Scholar has turned up the most results, but I can't find the journals the articles are in, and so I wouldn't be able to site them anyways.
Sectionals on Saturday at Emory. That means you, Peter and Megan. Come watch me play. Or not play too much because of my stupid ankle.
Well, I guess that's all.
Someone rescue me from this monotony.
However, it was really wonderful, seeing Craig and all. Sometimes I forget how good it feels to spend time with him. Conversation is so easy, and there is a closeness, a history, and mirrored respiration that I don't find in other people. An equal-opposite reaction to our actions. And we spent so long at Zaxbys remembering silly little things I had almost forgotten, that only existed in journals on pages in ink... Fuddruckers and laser tag and gossiping about you. Holding hands and kissing other boys because I knew you were watching. Kissing in vans. Whispers of some gentle consolation. Bumpy rides with rigid seats and forgetting where we are, ignoring it. I never forget missing you. I forget how it feels.
This summer will fly by too quickly.
I am struggling researching Talib Kweli's The Beautiful Struggle. I can't really find any academia on him. It's sucky. Google Scholar has turned up the most results, but I can't find the journals the articles are in, and so I wouldn't be able to site them anyways.
Sectionals on Saturday at Emory. That means you, Peter and Megan. Come watch me play. Or not play too much because of my stupid ankle.
Well, I guess that's all.
Someone rescue me from this monotony.