You always go where the wind blows
So I talked to this kid, John. He lives with the older me.
He's cute. He reminds me a lot of me. Like, that thing that when you're talking to him, you're not talking to him. You're talking to whatever projection of him he thinks is appropriate for you.
JCS rehearsals started. Ms. Johnson got some guy in to fix the wires. I could have fucking fixed them, but whatever. He's nice and he has his own soldering gun.
I figured out what it is about her that bothers me when I was talking to Derek.
"com·mod·i·fy -
tr.v. com·mod·i·fied, com·mod·i·fy·ing, com·mod·i·fies
To turn into or treat as a commodity; make commercial: “Such music... commodifies the worst sorts of... stereotypes” (Michiko Kakutani)."
In Marxism it means treating things--and especially people--not as what they are but where they can get you. What they can do for you. Maybe I'm wrong, who knows. Either way she creeps me right the fuck out.
Henry is still sleeping at the Y. Well, technically he is, sometimes he sneaks into my room at night. I'm not sleeping on the couch anymore. I keep waking up like every 10 minutes and making him check the door and window, but...eh. I don't know. I should ask that website about it maybe.
He's cute. He reminds me a lot of me. Like, that thing that when you're talking to him, you're not talking to him. You're talking to whatever projection of him he thinks is appropriate for you.
JCS rehearsals started. Ms. Johnson got some guy in to fix the wires. I could have fucking fixed them, but whatever. He's nice and he has his own soldering gun.
I figured out what it is about her that bothers me when I was talking to Derek.
"com·mod·i·fy -
tr.v. com·mod·i·fied, com·mod·i·fy·ing, com·mod·i·fies
To turn into or treat as a commodity; make commercial: “Such music... commodifies the worst sorts of... stereotypes” (Michiko Kakutani)."
In Marxism it means treating things--and especially people--not as what they are but where they can get you. What they can do for you. Maybe I'm wrong, who knows. Either way she creeps me right the fuck out.
Henry is still sleeping at the Y. Well, technically he is, sometimes he sneaks into my room at night. I'm not sleeping on the couch anymore. I keep waking up like every 10 minutes and making him check the door and window, but...eh. I don't know. I should ask that website about it maybe.