Decided to make a tumblr dedicated to all of those stories she makes up in her head about the hundreds of people she sees on train.
And so on.
Maura
I bought this flower for 1.50 near the train, and it made you smile, and when you smiled it made me realize how I should keep a flower with me all the time, since smiles do not come easy to me in San Frowncisco.
Terrible pun, but true.
I pretended to be photographing this flower, but actually I was picking you.
I imagine your aunt gave you that scarf, and at first you didn’t like it and kept it graced across the back of a barely used chair in that room at your moms house, the one your mom now uses as a duel functioning work out room and memory and memorabilia of who you were before that boy hurt your heart so bad and you built yourself a wall or two.
Tread mills and Candyland, yoga matts and wallet sized school photos cut with those Charlie brown shirt pattern scissors.
I like that scarf a lot. I’m glad you wear it now.
Photo with 1 note
Pam You don’t have to smile at me, Pam. I know that Pam is short for Pamela, and backwards spells Map, or Alemap- Which separated could be ale map, Which makes me wonder about where the beer is, specifically the warm fermentations of the fruity, hoppy barley brewed potions that’ll get smart girls going on in those increasingly hushed voices about the ghosts they see and sometimes are. And as I spend a quick moment to consider you, Pam, it hits me that your pretty ginger hair reminds me of the summer brews i drank on the back patio in louisiana just a week ago, fine fresh strawberry liquid metabolizing through my achey little spirit like surpringly pleasant handshakes between soon-to-be lovers. You don’t have to smile at me, Pam. I don’t even believe in ghosts, or spirits-even if for now and forever, I am a ghost to you.
Audio post - Played 4 times
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]Leadbelly. Where Did You Sleep Last Night.
