ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- troyce here forever always this week has been and will probably stand as the most ridiculous one of my recent life and prospective future lives. yesterday, thursday, began around tuesday and ended only in the very early moments of friday morning. like i convinced myself that it was all one day, divisable only by dreams, which didn't happen until sometime after 9am today. the various and ridiculous moments and meteorites of the past few day are more than i could accurately sum up right now. i moved out of the pink house, basically a 22-hour process that ended up with me going back to the lutz house at 10 am with everything i own in my car because no one was awake at my new house. at some point, and i'm not sure when because all the events and moments have been reshuffled by delerium and understatement, but whenever it was, it was early morning, and i was walking to or from somewhere, and there was all this stuff in someone's lawn, all set out like pieces of a boardgame on the grass, except it was various garbage that the house was getting rid of, a big cardboard sign that said "Free Stuff". i went through a pile of weird classical and easy-listening records to find a beat-up but playable copy of "Happy/sad" by tim buckley. amazing. the popsicle show was last night, and everyone was happy and sad and perfect and misguided and eating as many popsicles as possible and working it out together. put your hand in my hand and look me in the eye when you're talking to me. we played for over an hour, including a neil young song which i sent to pennsylvania for my mother because i love her. summer of o.m.d. i was so happy that you started your own page. ypsi pride is important. more important is it for you to know that i'm proud of you, and i think you're smart, beautiful, kind, cool and tough. a lot of people i know have started up these pages, and i think it's super cool. very very funny to see how a semi-public representation of a memory of an event appears here. like, the first time i realized that i myself was being written about on your page, it made me laugh out loud. seriously, if the way you think, especially in this really imperfect, easily dishonest forum is accurately represented by what you wrote, you're totally amazing, and even more trapped in apprehension and miscommunication than i believed possible. maybe i don't understand every strange, cryptic reference or silent signal, but more than that, i think you're very afraid of saying what you really mean. but when the sun shines slower than it did all summer, i can't really think about it as much, like petals closed between layers of cellophane. meanwhile, i'm sitting in a room as a bystander to the most important moments of my dearest friends lives. things that i'll never fully take in, but i'm some sort of audience. you are there together, so full of love and personal joy, coming to understand and realize that we've built our own family where our mothers and fathers have failed us, or denounced themselves out of our hearts that grow bigger than these streets where we were raised. they said we could take it or leave it and looked on like they were amazed. but we're all positive and hopefull. we know there's something more. 21:45:50 - 2000-08-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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