I miss the faces of the past
too much. There was a guy I met once, I thought he was
one of the most brilliant people I'd
ever known. We finally met in person and he sat staring at his feet
minutes straight after I had asked if he wanted a
drink. I began to panic, I didn't know what the hell
he was doing, he just sat
there full of nerves and anxiety and stared at
his goddamn feet.
"Do you want a drink or what?
" I knew I had impatience in my voice. I couldn't
stand him sitting there not doing anything.
But he just sat there. The time ticked on.
But he finally looked up. He looked right into my face. He looked at me directly
, as if he was sitting there
building up this courage to look at me. I don't know what he was doing. He
looked up at me and he smiled very calmly.
"Yes," he finally answered.
I didn't understand anything he said. He was on a totally different plane of
. "Can I kiss you?" he asked as we
sat on the steps. Why was he asking this? I had just finished teaching him how
to properly smoke a cigarette
bottlecaps. I just laughed and hid my head behind my arms. Instead, we broke
into the Berkeley library
and ran down the
I saw him on IRC one night. His words made perfect sense. He stopped talking in
. "I am a
pornstar," he told me. And he wasn't joking. And I just didn't know what to say, except that I liked him better when he made no sense.
My head is pounding
and sometimes I don't feel like making any sense.