i feel the social glare, i feel the attitude

it was six months. it's been years since those six months. i think i could start from right here and be happy. right here in year number twenty-one. i don't need that past anymore. it's like filler. the pages of plot before the sex in a romance novel. the layer of cake before the whipped cream and strawberries. i'd rather leave it and start from the good stuff. start backwards but not go back.

i have a feeling that something good might be happening. i can't tell for sure because how can you be sure about these things. i forgot my life's cheat sheet at home. i can't see the answers for the future, so i'm just filling in the bubbles next to the answer i think is right. it's like the math portion of the SAT. a c b d d d a b. i just wanted out of that small classroom. i remember waiting on the bench for my mother to come pick me up and speaking to a mother waiting for her daughter. it was her daughter's second time. my first. her daughter's first try was already higher than my first but i wouldn't know that until weeks later. she's probably going to SMU or UT or Harvard and i'm going to emerson college. my first pick. i want a recount. stupid chads. but life is not like a presidential election.

i'm waiting for my mail order cutlass, so i can cut the ties to my past.
 
¶ 7:19 PM |