Nuts to that. I’d been hoping to come to this dark coffee shop corner and perpetuate the delusion of connectedness. One click and type your friends, who are utterly elsewhere. Like most interpersonal linkages in modern
So I’m talking to myself. Old school: “Sgt. Peppers’” on the headphones, distracted co-laptoppers arrayed in a defensive perimeter.
Suddenly, I feel all right. I rained today, a sweet overcast epiphany that every day need not be plus-100. The indoor kid strolling by noticed – collared shirt and sweater today. I imagine him on morose July afternoons, wondering what to do until the clouds come and let him wear his itsy-bitsy teeny-weenie favorite grey sweater. I’d tell you your ship has come in, emo-kid, but we live in
I’m only from
I’m not sure why this all popped back into my head. I think it was because the Simpsons rerun today make a joke about a disgustingly clean field looking “like