on the road and in my head

[threeplusfire]

Spent a long evening in Metro. Alone, for a change. It's been some time since I had the place to myself, aside from the brat packs of children who lack the skills and poise for a good fake id. It made me think of that fall, not too long ago, when I was still painfully shy of everyone and would read Favazza downstairs on the couch nearest the window, with my sleeves down to my wrists. The sight of my exposed arms would cause me to shudder while reading, and in my mind I could see the blood running down them, while I read about the socio-historical context of mutilation rituals. Strange memories.

Tonight, someone said they were envious of my upcoming move across the ocean. It's been said before, and normally I shrug it off. Usually I want to say, "Don't say that, you have no idea what it means." For someone to be envious of me, for any reason, is not something I've ever been able to fathom. Perhaps the excitement is getting to my brain now, because I smiled and nodded. It is something.