my old date

I am listening to you, your newly famous trio. We didn't end so well, did we? It was my fault.

Stripes and a heavy ceramic end to something small. Weighty and tilted precarious. Sitting here with the jitters old gum dry and tasteless. Must keep chewing. There is a blog about organization but the tiny acrlyic shelves stress me out.

I'm gonna have you touch my chest to feel where the lumps may form one day. You could feel the lump in my throat today, if you like.

To hear you say you don't know if you want that family life one day causes a small incision, creating a small tear my skin.

I don't know you.

There is a pebble on the sidewalk. At least it looked like a pebble. I definitely tripped upon it. Or rather, my soft sole rolled over it causing my equilibrium to catapult forward into a raised sheet of sidewalk. Objects to trip over count: 2.

But none of this matters because I constantly "change lanes" when I'm walking on the sidewalk, probably causing most people to think I am drunk. At the very least---lost. Truthfully, I am fully just careless.

I'd like to say that I carry myself this way because usually I am so deep in thought. But am I, really? I can't even remember any of the thoughts I had two minutes ago. I am in the deep throes of my own ADD.

I'm not diagnosed but I know that I have it. I am constantly sure.

Fast Forward.

I want to transition this blog into a fashion/daily wardrobe log.

Please hold on.