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Tonight was Andrew's birthday. Happy Birthday from Pappasito's. Don't take offense Beth. You got the real deal.
My mind is blank. My brain is blank.
This feeling is the result of a 5 O' clock curfew. Designated Henry, such a charmer. He always was. After a few rounds of being a professional spectator and massive amounts of kung-fu dancing, I was spent change. The strange thing about dancing is that you ALWAYS feel like someone is watching you.
Also.
It's a strange feeling to be the only sober kid in the middle of a room. The story unfolds infront of you-- people who start akward, then tipsy, then--boom, it spreads like coffee over a white blouse. But only you're the one wearing the brown sweater--although now it smells a bit like hazelnut. All these crazy mongrols dancing the night away. You're that new kid sitting in the shadows. This isn't a cry out for acceptance, by the way.
This pertains to no specific incident. Trust me, I've been to my share of incidents.
Sometimes I feel like I'm watching a play. Where you know these people are all actors, with memorized scripts and stage plots. Until a few minutes later, when your retinas have finally adjusted to the dim atmosphere and finally you've found that perfect crease in your seat; you forget the powder and the painted age lines, and you sit back. You laugh. I laugh, at least.
You laugh at the akward things that apply only to you. You laugh at what would never touch the 2 inches of air infront of that girl's lips if her right hand wasn't grasped to that clear bottle. You laugh at when you know someone has just let go. And you say, "What a crazy, crazy girl,"--at least, I do.
You sit.
You sit some more.
When you sit you have time to think while the world spins and you're on wheels; you're at a constant position while the ground moves below you. Kind of like anime. Yeah. Wait, no.
You think about things.
You think about why on earth you're here. At that very place where you've positioned yourself or about the very place you're standing. It moves onto bigger things. Questions that pertain away from the frat house or the party. Onto bigger things. I'm not going to write those down, because you know you've had those thoughts before. At least, I have.
But if you've never been that kid, that one on the side peeking in. If you've never been the only sober--try my fold. Test my side. Come over to my field.
It's lonely, yet enriching--at least to me.
My mind is blank. My brain is blank.
This feeling is the result of a 5 O' clock curfew. Designated Henry, such a charmer. He always was. After a few rounds of being a professional spectator and massive amounts of kung-fu dancing, I was spent change. The strange thing about dancing is that you ALWAYS feel like someone is watching you.
Also.
It's a strange feeling to be the only sober kid in the middle of a room. The story unfolds infront of you-- people who start akward, then tipsy, then--boom, it spreads like coffee over a white blouse. But only you're the one wearing the brown sweater--although now it smells a bit like hazelnut. All these crazy mongrols dancing the night away. You're that new kid sitting in the shadows. This isn't a cry out for acceptance, by the way.
This pertains to no specific incident. Trust me, I've been to my share of incidents.
Sometimes I feel like I'm watching a play. Where you know these people are all actors, with memorized scripts and stage plots. Until a few minutes later, when your retinas have finally adjusted to the dim atmosphere and finally you've found that perfect crease in your seat; you forget the powder and the painted age lines, and you sit back. You laugh. I laugh, at least.
You laugh at the akward things that apply only to you. You laugh at what would never touch the 2 inches of air infront of that girl's lips if her right hand wasn't grasped to that clear bottle. You laugh at when you know someone has just let go. And you say, "What a crazy, crazy girl,"--at least, I do.
You sit.
You sit some more.
When you sit you have time to think while the world spins and you're on wheels; you're at a constant position while the ground moves below you. Kind of like anime. Yeah. Wait, no.
You think about things.
You think about why on earth you're here. At that very place where you've positioned yourself or about the very place you're standing. It moves onto bigger things. Questions that pertain away from the frat house or the party. Onto bigger things. I'm not going to write those down, because you know you've had those thoughts before. At least, I have.
But if you've never been that kid, that one on the side peeking in. If you've never been the only sober--try my fold. Test my side. Come over to my field.
It's lonely, yet enriching--at least to me.
posted by Henry at 12:49 AM
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