So yesterday was nice until my realizations came into play, the ones about how my time should be spent, precious or not. trolley tracks, in the dark, a rocky hill and my near-sighted night-blindness lead me to fall (on my ungraceful exit) and skin my left elbow. Gin and differences.

I spent all last summer around drunken "parties" and letting the same summer happen a second time would be so foolish of me. it's only April, and last night was hardly a horrible drunken party, but I feel so cold toward the people I attach such memories to. I bet they attach them to me too, that's how it works. you can't be a hero in your home town, some people get out, but the rest just do what they've learned how to do year after year to dull the pain.

I cannot allow that.
---
Sent
tarrying on
trolley ties
Mumbling in the face
of a skinning
perception
threatens to
feign
fear and
stumble