these idle forced pianist’s hands have forgotten too much for their brief time on earth. 

oh, what i wouldn’t give to be out in the cold with you tonight, feeling that queasy approach anticipation i know so well.  i have been neglecting myself; i have fallen into disrepair, and that is another familiar feeling, though unwelcome.

quiet expected disappointment tempered by complacency. the undercurrent of contentment is new, however.  it bathes me in a cold fluorescent glow and allows me to keep amending each hasty statement with “but it’s going to be fine, this will pass, it’s all just temporary, for all of us.”

i used to lay in the street like a marionette with severed strings and watch the bugs crash themselves repeatedly into the street lights. 

when the light went out on our street the other week all three of us wondered briefly if someone had put it out deliberately to cover their approach to the house and the funny thing is that we actually told each other about our thoughts instead of silently feeling like as if it’s about time we keep a pistol under our pillow and stock up on tinfoil hats.  that ought to mean something, right?

my extremities are always freezing but sometimes when we are sitting close my entire body seems to radiate heat- but you know that already.

at which point do you start to know a person too well?  i am an all-forgiving masochist but i think we all have parts of ourselves with which we are uncomfortable, parts that can’t be easily to understood or accepted if you haven’t lived them.  most times i wish i could hug every person in the damn world and not just because my town has less than 1000 citizens and .10% nonwhite people and nothing that is open past eleven pm.

this is uninteresting and cliche and i have no good reason to be informing the internet but it is also true: i am lonely tonight.