of all places.

picture if you will - a bachelor's apartment. a decade in the making, this finely crafted single man's dwelling was complete with valance, hand-sewn by mom, an empty refrigerator, and unconsidered bathroom.

but there, on the wall in the bathroom over the toilet, is a very nice painting of the Arc de Triomphe. out of place only in it's taste and quality.

if i had had my phone on me, i would have made a mistake and sent you a picture of it.

fitzgerald loves bates

i am drunk on the idea of you. i read things and want to study them with you. to go back in time, to be born on a different day, to experience things *with* you instead of either before or after you. i want so badly to be your peer, and i am not.

depending on the circumstances, you are either so far ahead of me i can barely make out your shape on the horizon, or behind me to a point where- by the time my words travel from my mouth to your ears the pressure waves that make up the sound of my words have decayed to a point that they no longer carry the same information. i can't reach you.

i really desire in a true way to understand you. and have you understand me. and it seems like the one thing we can't do. but i know you really cared about me, and i hope you know that i really, truly care about you. the rest is details, and this time i think the details matter. but i love you in a way that can't and won't be repeated. there will never be another you to me.

without a smile

annie in the greek. tonight was my last night running the board for this show. my closing night, as it were. it's intangible things like my mixed feelings for the passing of this show that haunt me, and all of these haunting thoughts smell like your perfume.

the concrete set into the side of that hill.

the fact that you understand that place in a way i can only compare to mine, and somehow i still can't get to you in the here and now. i hate that we couldn't make it right. i hate that i'll always feel like i was on the outside of your life.
so much has happened in such a short time, and somehow your ghost still is the one that gets to me.

it's puzzling to me....