We waited, but it never came. We watched out the window quietly in a mid afternoon haze. The rain, like a prized pianist's fingers plinked somber sprays of notes across the city. No one could get dry. Not this day or the one before.
On another day my face became flushed. I became a sort of gelatinous blob as people awed and strummed and bobbed their heads in beat. Later on It took the energy of an entire Metropolitan city not to cry. Not like you could tell the way it poured down onto me.
This is all true and happening and I can't believe it, because for awhile I thought that I couldn't feel that feeling. To think that anything has the power to reduce me to a gelatinous blob is scary. To think about maps and time tables isn't fun, but let's play like we're adventurists and not sentimentalists.
and who doesn't like an epic adventure?
we're not magicians because they are liars.
we're not pioneers because many have been here before.
(we're doing it our way)
we're not maudlin because we're tough like tar.
(well maybe a little, but who cares)
I let that funny word slip out. No, not that one, the one suggesting ownership. I never liked labels, but I had never been motivated for it's use. What wonders never cease. la la la la how colloquial of me. I've decided to enroll in a writing class at the Art Institute (starts September 4). I know. But it's close and works with my schedule. Besides this blog ain't gonna get me into grad school!
The sun is sort of peeking out, and really I'm not worried about all this distance business. Really I'm just jealous that everyone gets to see you waay more than I do.