I fly through the night and i am next to a woman, and on the plane she is a stranger, and i kiss her mouth, i really do. and we touch hands, and she leans into me, and we touch heads. She draws and writes lyrics for me on my paper when i am asleep. and i like her, and i like that love, and any moment could be. and it's not necessary to ever say goodbye or see her again, and she doesn't and i don't.
I land on the ground outside of boston. i am picked up and in a car, and we drive through under the sun. And we stop, and we are at a dinner, and then they, tell me funny things. They tell me about this place, and we eat omelets. And there is chemical american cheese on top, and i hate it, but they say it's good. and they eat it, and they like it. and i dont eat ham so usually.
and when i get onto campus there is a disappointment and it hurts. but only a little. and i walk around and think. and i think that this is not necessarily what i was thinking it would be. this is not my home or place. this is not where i was supposed to end up. this is more of the same, but worse.
and i wonder how i will engage, or be engaged. and i wonder what sort of people i will fuck, and be fucked by. and i want to touch myself because i have not had that physical shit for days.
and i know i am dirty, and its good, because i can go back to my dirty dirty living space, and i can lay down and surround myself with those cultish dead bastards pasted by someone else, on what are now my walls.
And here i am, curled up and breathing this bone-dry air, in the cold of an empty dorm, and i am trying to close my eyes.
