...3 people who will, conversely, most definitely be in the same frame/room several hundred times more in this lifetime...These girls are loyalists. Fiercely loyal. And I love and respect them for that, among all the other wonderful traits...I think they are more loyal to me than I am, to me...By extension, they know what's good for me, while I do not. They know who loves me, and who does not. Who to keep and who to shake. They let me rail, and they bring me back. And they see me, but I don't think they judge. And they give: a fucking lot. And it's weird sometimes, to meet people at 18, but only really seem vulnerable in front of them until a decade later when the training wheels have come off, and we're supposedly adults! And there I am with Katie on a non-descript Saturday night in a borrowed car in mid-December and I hate all of my winter clothes but I know I should be grateful and everything that everyone else is doing seems to be at my expense andddddddddddddddd yes - THAT train of thought and I'm bawling and we're sitting there hazard lights blinking and everything has not come full circle like it was supposed to but just unravelled and nothing is how it is supposed to be and I am two again and fuck your christmas lights and nothing...nothing nothing nothing nothing...can fix it. And it's embarrassing but only because in truth I do this a lot but usually I'm alone and I guess we all keep these protective coats on, as we cavort or skip, or barrel or wade or force our way through our 20s, and maybe our 30s, I don't know...some coats are transparent and some will never come off and some are impossible to get inside of and some wouldn't even let you borrow theirs if you were freezing and not used to winter and if my shit cost $500 and you wanted it for your birthday - I would give it to you!...there is nothing else TO give, really...and I guess by these standards, it'd be a rarity for an outsider meeting us just now to want to stay in this picture with us, no? So much responsibility, so much to care for! - - - but that would be the point, and the privilege...
when i am walking and i see a cat about to cross in front of me i hurry up; i'm serious. the other day i wondered if it's just black cats that are supposed to bring bad luck? que tal racistas!!! or if the same superstition applies to white cats, too; not really sure, because the point is that life is getting weirder and i feel like i come across a relatively large amount of street cats (including white ones) and so to them i say "no i don't think so" and scurry around or to the side of them or beat them to our imaginary intersection. there are a lot of things at my cross roads right now; for you, too? see how ms. walters wears this white dress? she does so with black cats at her own feet, so as to avoid all of that.
