I feel like it's been a long time since I've written anything good. I feel like all I'm doing is dumping information. Here's a chart. Here's a picture I made. Here's what I did today.
I have a few soapboxes I keep meaning to set up. There's the bit about tattoos in non-native languages, and about what it means to know something. And there's always the Why I'm Pro-Choice But Disagree With All Other Pro-Choicers. But even those, if I ever write them down, are still just direct explanations of a position. Communication for the sake of what is being communicated. I want communication for the beauty and the joy of it.
But, really, all I want to do is talk about a boy. I want to tell every new thing I've learned about him, and every good thing about him, which is everything, because all I can see is crush. Conflicting information? What conflicting information? Everything is perfect.
I want to analyze every sentence of the email where he rejected my advances, and I want to find reasons to believe that maybe there's hope, and that way lies madness. I know.
I want to think about all the other people who implicitly or explicitly rejected my advances, and what it is that they want but don't see in me. And that way also lies madness.
So I guess what I have instead is a sort of meta-post, a table of contents to imaginary stories.
And the memory of good music, a charming boy, a pink dusk, and the road West. I wanted to hold his hand, but I didn't.