i have a blog, and i use it. and sometimes it’s horrible, but sometimes it’s awesome. people have even called it awesome. well, they’ve generally used their vocabularies when describing it. but still.
and it’s spring.
i spend more money than i have on lovely things that are new, things that were not things in my last apartment. oh and i plan things. all the time. but i still haven’t changed my address everywhere. but i do plan things.
i have super nintendo again, and i have started to become sentimental about new things. a post-it without words on it is hanging on my wall, actually without words. without a quotation from an office i haven’t worked at in weeks.
and it’s spring.
i found all these pieces, around my room, because when i moved into my last room it was winter and i was having pieces literally thrown onto my shoulders. i found the pieces around my room because i was unpacking a room i had built of them alone.
but pieces, even when you slide them into plinko slots, or tear them so they only fit a certain way, will blow across the tile. sometimes on their own but also, other times, when someone forces breath on them.
anyway, it’s spring. and all those pieces are in my closet in a hat i turned upside-down.
not thrown out, because i’m me.
but it is spring now. almost summer. and i’m going home. and i have fish. and i still hear traffic. and i played catch on friday night with my hand inside a sweaty baseball glove. and i made a promise to myself, a long time ago, before even last spring, or the spring before.
i’m going to let myself have the happy instead. or at least try for it. again. because it’s spring, and i have this new post-it. and the nintendo. and these new lovely things that can only belong here. and walking along the canal with my new roommate, which wasn’t even my idea, which is nice.
and pieces, hidden. which is also nice, because i’m me, and because it’s spring.
