I walked past a time or two to see if it was you

I watched an audience watch a student film today. I also wrapped myself up in post production sound editing: which I would somewhat love to never worry about again. I dimmed the lights and donned a fantastic usher vest.

Last night I spent in a dark room. A developing room. We all traipsed over to an old apartment to group into enclosed bathrooms. We milled about in variating patterns. A stand across the room, corner of the couch, guitar hero, professor's glasses, agitate the spaghetti ball of film in the sink.
What do you know about university children who's hands smell of developing chemicals?
I know they must be thinking their own thoughts often similar to mine. There is a terrible awkward girl. But this is a great small film classes. And great small film classes have no room for outcasts. Because she has a story. And we're all liberalites and hater-haters. Ho!

what ho, green carpet
of multiplying floors and nightmares
clashing with blue carpet couches
and testifying of uncares
uncares for the picture to hang on the wall
uncares for the student who communes with tv
lay back into cooties of generations of tenants
no one cares
no one cares
for we upholster in carpets of:
worn down
bathroom threaded
plastic fiber

"Child, there were many days of fall left to be won. I tucked my scarf tenderly into my bag every morning and tried on a different cardigan on every different day. None of it was taken to because the weather stayed a gentle summer staying."

He was confused and tried to be himself. For confused reasons there were rules that became obstacles and barriers. Everything had some validity. Who was right and how could anyone have done anything better? But now as I watch the man on the screen with the tattoo, I think of the boy with the tattoo and processes. Realism? Idealism? What heart holds into you or pours out from you? Nothing so moves me; I love you my friend.

"Hi, I'm Icarus, I'm falling*"


*This is a quote from a Regina Spektor song. I don't know which one. The other quotation has no reason to be cited. It came from some well of imagination.