it smells like the perfect spring evening. you know that cool, almost sharp kind of smell. it seems--forgive me for my naivety--magical. i was walking through campus after work tonight and i wanted to keep walking. i wanted to turn down streets and wind through shrubs of parks and come out somewhere else. maybe i would end up right where i started with a new sense of purpose: to find my way through the winding night and find it. it. you. IT. i feel so hopeless at this time of year. i feel particularly hopeless today. sarah, you are brilliant and have keen insights but...
i write in a circular way. i speak circular and often repetitive. that is easy enough to point out but when everyone is in a roundabout of speech, how are we all going to get out of it? we talk in circles around each other to not get to a point. being concise is not valued because it throws people off in a positive way. i hate people who are bound by literary rules consisting of the right grammar and punctuation, verbs and pronouns. i am an english major without a book on grammar and i don't even care.
it smells like change outside. it smells like a particularly cool summer night i sat outside and watched the sky. i was eighteen. i find myself right back where i started.
