eight whizzing wheels on smooth concrete. eating and feeling satisfied after being really hungry. friends. a combination of all three. i was probably more fat than phat after dinner but flying highhhhhhhhhhhhhh- felt like my peach tea was spiked with vodka. squealing does not happen except when intoxicated, although i will always find my jokes funny. old friends, old friends, never gonna let go friends. 

going back to places i could once navigate with my eyes closed. at once gasping at the differences and comforted by familiar sights. walking in drizzles, warm hands and waffles. being ridiculous. ruined hair and i do not care. the term was iambic pentameter. 

my hip mother is at dempsey right now and i am at home tapping away on my computer trying to start on my assignment. ....... i have no words and there is no justice. 

what was us and now there's no you and figuring out what is just me. 

i feel too shy for drama now but it was so cathartic. every time i think of moments of reckless abandon i remember leaping around the room in black tights spine curled and then reaching hands waving into the air. the tribal dance leaving our lungs bursting from shouting and joy. 

in other news, my belly button feels like someone is shoving a sharpened stick into it when i bend over backwards or breathe. say whut.