my finest hour

tommorow it all begins. i'll climb aboard a schoolbus i'll ride for four years (unless our super poor school district cuts off the money for it), walk down the hallways i'll eventually become overly familiar with, find the head custodian to fix my lock, and then switch lockers with someone (i know that top lockers are usually the good ones to have, but when you're 4'10 1/2", it's really not all that great). i put my binder together tonight, and i put pictures on the cover (there's one of devendra banhart, one of charles and a blurry ethan, one of my french boy, one of some boys smoking in france, one of tv on the radio. flip to the back. some guy taking a picture in Paris, an arthur magazine sticker, something that says 'fragile, handle with care', two pictures of aqualung...you don't care). and then i'll go to my classes, which i'm sure will be absolutely boring.

i feel dead. i havn't heard from him in over a month, and i hope nothing's wrong. i know all the people europe like to go on vacation for obscene amounts of time, but jesus. i miss him so much. i'm so miserable all the time, there's just this weight in my mind and on my heart and it's so heavy and it's crushing me. i wish he was back. i remember when my mind was once light and fluffy and i floated everywhere. but the days when my heart leaped all the time are gone. i shouldn't be listening to this song. this was the song that, when i realized (the day after i left the school) that i really liked him, i would lay on my bed and cry to this song.

i need to get away from here.