pg 48


May 14, 2010, 10:19 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

everyone was so assured with their sentences about days in new york, swedes everywhere, casual afternoons among friends recounting stories over counter tops worn down, paint chipping, peel-able. everyone was still working on the same old collages, linked to and from websites here and there, that months ago had felt cutting edge. and now, it’s what has driven me back here. alone. tired. but hopeful.

maybe there’s a place for me yet. where i’ll discover that my fingers do want to learn the banjo quickly, working as they will to expedite the process. a twinge of passion, anything, so that one day i’ll reach a certain point in life to not care a bit when i sneakily borrow my roommates mirror to cut streaks out of my hair with sloppy strokes of the scissors that aren’t mine. will they put the pieces together, figure out that no i do not in fact own any scissors and must have used theirs. and here i was worried at first they would think it was cocaine i was up to. now they probably care more about having to cut swaths of meat, stews ruined by the taint coming off their now hair stained scissors.

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