Thank you for the minutes of amusement :)
And Death once dead, there’s no more dying then” —Sonnet 146, William Shakespeare (via inregardto)
It’ll be the second week of school for you today. I hope you’re enjoying university and being so far from everything that used to make you feel so melancholy. All those trees and people who bike - it’s perfect for you there. A bit far from me, but that’s just how things go. I don’t expect to hear from you anytime soon, and in a way, I almost hope that I don’t. This way, I don’t have to observe the fading as it happens and our lives will just diverge imperceptibly.
A few days ago, a girl wrote on your wall. She’s quite pretty. She thanked you for hanging out with her and the other freshmen and invited you to a basketball game (or some type of game, I don’t recall) if you got bored later that night. You’ve deleted the post since, or maybe she deleted it herself.
You made a status about the particle found in CERN that travels faster than the speed of light. This made me smile because it was you that I thought of when I read the article a few days ago.
That was inaccurate. I don’t actually think about you all those times. It’s rather the idea of you, and that idea kind of blends into the idea of my future perfect person. I suppose it’s rather unfortunate for you to be associated with the idea of some imaginary character in my mind. I’ll meet him one day though. I’m sure he’s real. His personality will be kind of like yours, maybe, but I hope he’ll be a brunette so that when we coincidentally meet later on, you can’t tell me that I’m dating someone just like you. He’s not like you at all. He’s brunette.
It’s a tad graphic.
Please stand by
- Kathy Nightingale: What did you come here for anyway?
- Sally Sparrow: I love old things. They make me feel sad.
- Kathy Nightingale: What's good about sad?
- Sally Sparrow: It's happy for deep people.
That’s a shame. A damn shame. It’s okay though, after this tour they’re going to record a new album and be back in no time (:
I’ll be there when they come back and then maybe, hopefully, you will be too? That sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Yes, why yes it does.
I AM SO FUCKING JEALOUS because Allie and I were going to buy tickets from this girl on Craigslist but she sold them and just aoviwmn;fNOSw
I’m very happy for you and those wonderful memories that you now have. It must have been incredible.
The days are getting shorter. I can feel the change happening; soon it’ll be cold enough for umbrellas and heavy jackets. We haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m sure you’re anticipating the shift as much as I am. It’s almost your favourite season. You always did like the idea of pale skin hidden under layers of synthetic warmth.
I went to the writing center today for extra credit in Art History - it’s basically just sitting down with an English major who helps you write a paper. However, I kind of managed to be really painfully uncooperative.
Upon my arrival, the front desk woman pointed out the tutor at his table (he was the only male tutor), but he was sitting with another student, so I just said, “okay” and stood at the reception desk. Then the lady tells me again, “that’s Harrison,” and pointed toward that direction, which made me think that I got it wrong the first time, so I asked her where. She pointed at him again, and I mentioned that Harrison looked busy, and she told me that he was there. This continued for longer than two minutes.
When I finally got to the table and met Harrison, I kept laughing because he’d ask me stuff like, “How does this make you feel?” and “What do you think the purpose of this assignment is?” and for some reason I thought it was hilarious. It’s not really. I was probably also very sarcastic. Laughter + sarcasm = condescending behaviour on my part. I felt bad and tried to go along with his questions, but I really didn’t like the “how does this make you feel” bit. I just couldn’t answer it. Maybe that’s a bigger problem, but whatever.
At the end of the most awkward hour I’ve had in a while, I left and forgot to get my ID card back from the receptionist. Harrison had to run after me and tell me that I needed to scan out.
I just… I need more sleep.