there’s a timer running as i write these words. i’ve got fifteen minutes. i’ve left this to the end of the day (again) and sat staring at the screen for a minute before i decided to just say fuck it and see what comes out when i just start typing…
except i want to type about the people in my life again. and, again, that seems, um… problematic. i’m clacking away here at this keyboard and i want to describe how irrationally sexy i think fast typing is and how, when T mentioned the other day that at his height, he could type over 100 WPM, i was moved. (not even playing.) what an odd way to be woo-able.
i want to use this space to talk about me. (me me me, now now now, gimmee gimmee gimmee. it makes zero sense that that chant from my wackadoo drivers ed class teacher from my sophomore year in high school has stuck in my head for all these years.) but yes, this is my space. damn it. and part of me and my life, is the people in and around my life.
but i feel that reflecting on the people who are here today feels a little… disrespectful. and icky.
somehow, capturing snippets from my past feels safer. mostly. except that (as i’ve mentioned somewhere else in a post from way way back) i’m a bit of a friend hoarder. i tend to keep hold of people, even after most of our story has played out. i’ve got a metaphorical steamers trunk full of people to whom i once felt a connection, and i drag this ever expanding box of souls with me where ever i go.
i received a picture from J today. i have finally convinced him to send occasional proof of life selfies. the last two have been very serious beach selfies. my imagination works to conjure up the fuller scene around him – him, shirt off, sun warmed on the beach, listening to the waves, trying to ignore the distracting florida antics playing out around him – and i remember that i miss him.
C had been looking for a good senior quote for his yearbook. (he finally, on his own, settled on a david bowie quote, and i couldn’t be more proud.) but we were scanning through some kurt vonnegut quotes and one of them – that i don’t think i completely agree with, but that still seems relevant here – was this one: the purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.
<beep beep beep> and that’s fifteen minutes.
eleven bee 