memories, dreams, and the borg
memories: In grade 2, Mrs. Thompson would make us sit in a circle, and we all took turns reading a paragraph from our collective books. My heart pounded as my turn approached. It was my least favorite activity. Even then, i didn't want to be perceived. One day, in the midst of our reading circle, Damien shit his grey joggers and didn't move an inch. He just sat there, in his shit, unwilling to accept reality. I wonder what was going through his mind. I felt mortified for him. He must of been terrified of the hyenas he had for classmates. I don't remember how he got up from the floor or if the teacher helped him, I mean, she must have; I just can't picture the scene in my mind's eye. All I know is that he was forever immortalized as the kid who shit his pants at storytime. I wonder what he's doing these days.
dream last night: Me trying to tell K, all the reasons why camping this weekend wouldn't be a good idea.
song of the moment:
microthoughts:
- i think i fucked up my left arm lifting weights
- i read/heard somewhere: do you feel guilty when your partner spends a long time going down on you? yes i do.
- enjoying comfortable co-phone time with someone while eating lunch is true companionship
roll.diary: Sci-fi section in the very eclectic bookshop: Re-Reading.
the unknown future rolls toward us
when you pass through the door, a lightsaber swooshes
yippee-ki-yay
