"When I run dry, I stop a while and think of you"
I could tell you that a large portion of my extended family is here for graduation.
I could tell you that I'm feeling less dizzy and motion sick.
I could tell you that I missed a trip to the zoo with my friends today due to illness.
But... I won't.
If the human existence is so built upon relationships, then why is conversation so meager? What do we end up talking about anyways? The same dumb box office hit movies that aren't even good? The way you still remember that thing that happened last year? Oh ha ha. I'm laughing only because I want to be nice. Oh yeah, and attempt to be human.
There's still that same fear that you'll never truly *get* something from talking except some sort of laughter or emotional buzz or inner gushiness. I wish I had a herd of professors for friends simply so I could *make* literary references every once and a while.
Or maybe it's because of that personality trait that apparently I have. You know the kind. The ones that appear on your horoscope that don't apply at all, but one or two kinda do. One trait is having selfish ends in relationships and people, wanting to learn and gain from them for one's own self. I mean, I'm not so sure I'd call it a selfish thing, but I guess it kindof is. Maybe I'm just being selfish wanting to have a mind battle or to get to know new artists or books because of a conversation. Then again, wanting anything in this world could be considered selfish.
What happened to class? I wish fart jokes would go away and never come back. I seek to abide by a certain amount of propriety, even elegance at times. But that is absurd in any setting nowadays. You know, I was eating a meal with my peers one time, and I was too lazy to ask for them to pass the bread, so I snaked my arm around a cup or two to grab the basket, commenting "Excuse my reach." They laughed. In a totally nice way, of course. I didn't feel ashamed, I felt sorry for them. I felt sorry for society.
Rack up another personality to my list of them. So far, I've only really sought to describe two. The miniskirted, tattooed blonde who smokes a few while waiting in the train station to head home to her flat after a party, still looking unphased. Then there's this one, the black-gloved lady with her hair swept into neatly-set 60s waves, smiling red lips over champagne as she discusses with her cultured friends the latest opera. Ahh, personas.
Katrina
Ps- Graduation is tomorrow night. Let's get this over with, shall we?
Pps- I love this song. After I die, I hope people think something like this of me.
I could tell you that I'm feeling less dizzy and motion sick.
I could tell you that I missed a trip to the zoo with my friends today due to illness.
But... I won't.
If the human existence is so built upon relationships, then why is conversation so meager? What do we end up talking about anyways? The same dumb box office hit movies that aren't even good? The way you still remember that thing that happened last year? Oh ha ha. I'm laughing only because I want to be nice. Oh yeah, and attempt to be human.
There's still that same fear that you'll never truly *get* something from talking except some sort of laughter or emotional buzz or inner gushiness. I wish I had a herd of professors for friends simply so I could *make* literary references every once and a while.
Or maybe it's because of that personality trait that apparently I have. You know the kind. The ones that appear on your horoscope that don't apply at all, but one or two kinda do. One trait is having selfish ends in relationships and people, wanting to learn and gain from them for one's own self. I mean, I'm not so sure I'd call it a selfish thing, but I guess it kindof is. Maybe I'm just being selfish wanting to have a mind battle or to get to know new artists or books because of a conversation. Then again, wanting anything in this world could be considered selfish.
What happened to class? I wish fart jokes would go away and never come back. I seek to abide by a certain amount of propriety, even elegance at times. But that is absurd in any setting nowadays. You know, I was eating a meal with my peers one time, and I was too lazy to ask for them to pass the bread, so I snaked my arm around a cup or two to grab the basket, commenting "Excuse my reach." They laughed. In a totally nice way, of course. I didn't feel ashamed, I felt sorry for them. I felt sorry for society.
Rack up another personality to my list of them. So far, I've only really sought to describe two. The miniskirted, tattooed blonde who smokes a few while waiting in the train station to head home to her flat after a party, still looking unphased. Then there's this one, the black-gloved lady with her hair swept into neatly-set 60s waves, smiling red lips over champagne as she discusses with her cultured friends the latest opera. Ahh, personas.
Katrina
Ps- Graduation is tomorrow night. Let's get this over with, shall we?
Pps- I love this song. After I die, I hope people think something like this of me.