April 2012
Solitary Gun — Rogue Wave
You guys I have a 10 page essay due tomorrow, a 3 page Spanish play I have to memorize and perform, a 30 page group project, ugh but all I want is all of the hard alcohol
I hate everything
Modeling for the Cornell Fashion Collective show today omg
This runway is immense I don’t even what if I fall
“Love is a burning thing”
Oh man, just going to sit here and laugh at how cold it is in Ithaca right now.
The other day she told me that she felt like she carried the world upon her shoulders. Now, sitting against the green-cushioned wooden chair without a back, I can understand with oddly uncharacteristic clarity.
Saturday drunkenly slipped into Sunday, who wearily sank down among the April greenery and remained there. X and Y sank down into blue bus seat upholstery, odd hunk of metal on four wheels lurching up cobblestoned Ithacan streets blaring rock music, laughed. Embraced. The only word I could think of was “scruffy”. “Endearing” came not long after that, surfacing slowly like the clear air bubbles rising on empty Frappucino glasses. Air bubbles. So that you could tell the flowers were alive. And as these cloudy grey-skied days passed by, I just didn’t know anymore.
“April is the cruelest month”, yet someone placed a single yellow rose among the red tulips, let it lie and laugh at the world with its primary coloured irony.
Trail along now. Discard your reflective surfaces. Keep the colbalt chained. Coral-red was just for second-guessing. The orange slices don’t help.
April is the cruelest month.