cold air that makes us thump our chests with balled fists and then dissolve into giggles. and oh i am Shirking Work right now. sneaking off to play internet. a stack of fliers next to my elbow.
HI! (bright smile) WE'RE HAVING A POSTER SALE IN THE LOUNGE. (big smile) TIL SIX OCLOCK. (bright smile) CHECK US OUT. (big smile) ooh, can i have a cigarette?
haven't written in ages. the wordy parts of my brain are depleted from hours of nightly phone conversations with the Next Big Thing. and now, and now smoking: my fingers twitch. i stare off into space and all my thoughts --which are in the air-- rise up several inches into the sky and then refocus, down, back onto the topic of the boy. stop, gulp, calm oneself. and everything around me pauses, then lifts several inches off the ground. i look at it. everything is bonkers. and several inches above the ground. oh protect me--
what i do these days is live in hotels, wake up in the mornings, fix two or three coffees in the lobbies, drag the posters around, sell them. lots of them. what i do is: i stare blankly into space and think, i will say this later, i will tell about this later, i wonder what is happening, i wonder if i should ask What Is Happening, i wonder if that would mess it up, oh i don't want to mess any small part of anything up, how do i do this, oh i will mess it up its just a matter of when i will. mess up. and then look at the ground and everything in the room lifts up into the air several inches around me
i'm fourteen. i'm twelve. i'm a reverse trajectory through time. i'm all the emotions i spent the last two years slutting out of my heart. i woke up and was pure as a bird and promise rings and fat russian novels where they talk too much and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait. and wait.
yours, amanda L. at 3:16 PM [+]
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1. i'm trying Haloscan.
2. and i want to marry Blogger.
anda gail lewis 2005. stop crying every day.
