you know those movies where there is some level of interest/tension between two characters. and then they are in separate beds in separate rooms and one comes over to see the other. (for some reason i can only think of 'Notting hill,' but i know there are dozens.)

that's not going to be me. this isn't a startling revelation or epiphany, but just a somber thought i had while reading a book of essays on people's experience with John Hughes films.

i don't imbue people with those drives because i don't impact people that way. and while i may want to make that move myself, i really don't want to bother people. and what that leaves is a stasis that i find unfulfilling but unavoidable. oh well.

it is a little numbing to watch avenues close as part of everyday life. but it is better than pretending. and that's what it feels like i've been doing for a long time. and for no reason.



< << < : : >> > >
number 9.. .   .? andy andy andy, get your adverbs here

let it rain down