"Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking."
-Jessamyn West
>♥<
Things on the list of working-ish on:
- Geography Club (review)
- Transgender (essay)
- gay (essay)
- Whole New Thing (review)
We got in an accident just on the border of Metropolis, IL, where the little town brushed past the automotive vein known as Interstate 24. I stared out over the fields as the Midwestern soccer mom apologized for her great big black SUV rolling into our little blue-grey Honda parked at the gas pump and it startled me up from my study of the cris-cross of lines that was our atlas. The grass waved in the wind as she handed her insurance information and spattered out another flustered
sorry. Me and Kelly weren't that panicked. There's no rush when you don't know when you've got no goal and the only thing that matters is that you're going somewhere that isn't where you're coming from.
Simon was the one who kissed me first. Not that it matters who kissed who. When you start dating the brother of your dead boyfriend, things will be weird no matter who starts it. I went with it, haunted by the ghost in Simon's face. We talked about it afterwards, clothes being pulled on awkwardly. Simon saw Ryan in me. I saw Ryan in Simon. I know it's completely messed up, that's absolutely morbid, but it was keeping Ryan with us. Our grief left greedy souls milking what they could from what was available.
Noders I Have Met in Real Life and the Order in Which I've seen them in: