a bluer glow

Ok, so I can see where the man is coming from. And it may just be best for me to not get into poetry-writing grad school. It may be time to forget schooling for a while. I mean, I gotta get out of school first. But hell, it's almost over.

In other news, something crazy was going on in the dusky streets of Lexington last night, passive post-rain soaked streets glowing a lighter shade of dark BLUE-- how does that happen?-- so beautiful it gave me chills. It was probably the darkening sky reflected on the pavement. But... I'd rather believe it was angels, or a world beneath, or whatnot. I'm weird like that.

And I don't care if I'm right. S'all good.

I found KLJ last night around 1 and wished her a happy birthday and rambled at her and her boyfriend, JM, for a halfhour or so. The good people somehow enjoy my mad ramblings-- laughing at me, laughing with me, whatever-- I'm just glad to get the giggles out of peoples' stomachs; they do not deserve to be held up at the station, no no.

The smell of Breckenridge halls-- I may miss that. The echoing of the door opening in the hall. The echoing of the door slamming shut in the hall. The slick shine of the stairs. The warped cracked wood windows; the view of the train tracks. The moan of the trains. Maybe, just maybe.

S'all good. It is much easier to sit in this room alone when I can hear the people in the nextdoor rooms rummaging about, jumping from bunkbeds, listening to terrible pop music, slamming their heads against our shared wall-- or something that sounds like that. Makes me feel like this world is inhabited-- funny, how I often feel like it isn't.

I want to learn more about trees. A lot more. I want to be a tree-expert. When the time comes.

Talk of face-sized rain drops, and concussions thereof. Fairy tales, and stumps that eat their parents-- that's not my story. But that's good, I can think on that. Dreams of sized-down houses that flip you upsidedown to levitate you to upstairs floors; others of baseball games, giving out four cigarettes, english professors, and long conversations with the man behind me, without turning to face him. Just talking forward.

Forward.