zacharyaaron

My favorite poem.

I go home in about a week. I'm fairly ecstatic. It's been a year and a half since I've seen my family, or the land where I grew up. I'm at the point where the homesickness has faded into a constant melancholy that seeps into each thought I have, so that I can't tell where it ends and I begin. But soon, I shall be cured.

My new camera gets here soon. I've been exploring, searching for interesting things to take pictures of. And yes, I just ended that sentence with a preposition. Fuck off (oops there's another one). My last girlfriend (also a year and a half ago) wanted to take nude photos of me. I don't know why. She was exploring her creative side, which I thought was very attractive, but I'm not sure why she thought taking pictures of me naked was a good way to do that. We never got around to it, and sometimes I regret that. After we broke up, she sent me a picture she did in chalk. It was an abstract, that when looked at from a certain perspective showed a woman pulling a man's head into her breasts. I think that's interesting. To send an ex-lover a picture of a woman embracing a man in a slightly motherly, slightly sexual way. I'm sure it says something about the relationship we had together, but I'm not sure what.

If anyone is looking for something new to read, I recommend a story called Y: The Last Man. It's a comic, but don't let that turn you off. It is one of the most beautiful stories I've ever read. Everytime I read the final chapter, my heart breaks.

"Oh my next girl, will be nothing like my ex-girl. I made mistakes back then. I'll never do it again."