Sunday, July 24, 2011
And I faked a phone call and lied through my teeth to a boy who is becoming something good and when I didn't stick it out and make it a good experience I felt awful.
I didn't feel full. I didn't feel full like when there were still people in my kitchen at one in the morning the night before or full like when we didn't sleep at all or full like sitting on a hill and watching Fleet Foxes or full like I felt when he played with my hands. I didn't feel full like when we finally went back to Del Taco after so long a hiatus. I didn't feel full like when we made music all morning.
When I tinted my teeth with a little lie because I didn't want to stick it out and be happy and witty and outgoing, I didn't feel full. I felt like an empty sell-out.
And I wondered what the aliens who abducted me had done with the real me.
But I suppose that some emptying would be required before all very full glasses could become full again.
There is a cactus on the ceiling.
All my love,