fourth floor power shortage.

it’s the first day now, it’s finally here, it finally came.
it was a long, lazy, lovely summer and it’s over. i have one year left to go and the rest of my life, eternal summers with the worst weather. permanent vacation to the wrong destination, or something, i guess. i’ve never been on vacation but i imagine i’d be pissed if it rained the whole time. and here i thought i would start this year off optimistic.

it’s raining, because that might serve as official proof that the summer is gone. i don’t know why i can’t stop thinking about it, i wasn’t even particularly attached to this past summer. sometimes it’s easiest to complain about things that have already happened and can’t be changed. sometimes it’s just easier still to complain about the ordinary, trying to avoid thinking about larger, heavier problems. i don’t know if i have a large heavy problem. no one here looks like they have problems. everyone is all jittery and smiley with first-day-of-a-forgotten-routine excitement. come back in a week and it’s going to be another old shuffle, everyone avoiding eye contact and burying their heads in books and coffees and ipods and anti-social. like i’ve been the whole time.

sometimes i don’t know what’s worse. or better.
time always moving, things always changing, new people filling new shoes that have been choked back like thirty year old weeds… or staying the same. walking the halls, touching the brick built back in the day, the replanted weeds. being where something’s happened already, where too many people have breathed and even more fingers have touched.

if time is the old bald cheater i feel like i need to go back in it a little bit.