monday morning

my heart races and then i wake up. it's 4:45am. i'm wide awake. thirsty. i should be studying, but i don't. i decide to wear mascara and my favorite pink shirt. i practice in the mirror with electrical tape over my nipples. little red x's. my next move into the realm of photo booth porn. i decide it looks good, but save it for another day.

i'm hungry. i haven't eaten all day. i get breakfast and i sit alone. like always. i never know anyone there. i eat cheerios.

i'm antsy to get out of class. two pieces get handed into class, both are good. i still shake-shake-shake my leg. i think about the photo booth and maybe that scarf in the window.

the wind doesn't feel as cold as i remember from this morning. i don't get snow in my shoes. no one honks their horn or whistles at me.

the scarf is there and i pick it up. the matching gloves and hat. i want them all. brown, pink and grey angora. i rub it against my cheek and carry it around like a lost puppy. i put it back. i pick it back up. i'm about to walk out and i go back and grab it again. i put it back.

i think about buying cds. i can't figure out what i want.

the photo booth has a line. a fucking line. two blonde chicks. two asian chicks. i don't want to wait. i glare at them. they flip their hair in the reflection of the sporting goods store. they don't see me. i don't smile. i stomp away unsatisfied.

then there's grey slushy snow and eating doughnuts i smuggled from the dining hall. they are good, i decide they are my new favorite food.

no one turns their head when i walk by. i don't smile. but i'm in a good mood.

later:

i like his voice over the phone. but nothing seems clear.  
¶ 1:45 AM |