Back where I was nearly a full month ago, just forty feet lower: Now that I know how meaningful things are I study every detail up close and from a distance, a reconstructionist. A night in conversation and locked eyes ends in predictive tears and the most terrifying nightmare I ever wrote down into my phone: "Rationality and a class about karma and montreal streets and blank cheques from the department head all at a house party and lots of crying and anger from me and a redheaded girl named allison who had just arrived and i told her i loved her and took her head in my hands as if to tell her not to go in there and face what i had faced. Starts as i squeeze past a bus and a voice asks me if i want [mudguy] now or later."
What an evening, and what I day. and now I really need a break from this city. I wish I had done things sooner, when I'm sure they'd hurt less. I think it was a bad situation from the start, damn me.
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