toughgirl

Random:
On the way to work today I saw bicycle parked on campus with what appeared to be a bird cage attatched to the handle bars. I wondered if whoever the bike belonged to carried a small dog or cat in the basket, and if so, if they had said animal in class with them in one of those trendy doggy suitcase carrier things that are so fashionable now. It was early and this seemed like a funny thought to me.

Do you remember when you were 16 and you thought you knew everything? (even if you were one of those people that swore you didn't think you knew everything, you really did think you knew quite a lot about life) and then when you are 23 you realize you don't know shit? I like this, it keeps me young. The more I learn the more I realize I don't know. (Does that sentence even make sense?)

I haven't talked to Nater in a month. I dream about him often, and it is always that he is hurt or sad and I'm not there to help him. In real life, or waking, whatever, I worry about him, wonder if he's happy and/or being good to himself. For once I wish I could just come out and say the truth, simply, "Nathan, I love you, and I know you hurt and are going through shit right now, but I will always offer my throat for you and I won't forget"...just honest, but we've never been like that and it is a little late to start now. Maybe he knows these things, maybe he doesn't, maybe he does and doesn't give a fuck. Whichever it is it's hard when everything has been a joke and fun and then you realize you really care that you really mean all of these things and you can't tell them. I guess most of this is just nostalgia, I can't believe it's been a year since he was here and nights were filled with stories and poems and laughter and sex while wearing white converse and sitting on rooftops and walks at 3 AM. I miss the stories most. If someone had told me a year ago that I would I would have told them that was a crock of shit, because I was tough and all. I guess I was wrong.