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 for 5 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 and unmoving, 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 existence. "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 and throw bottlecaps. I just laughed and hid my head behind my arms. Instead, we broke into the Berkeley library and ran down the halls.

I saw him on IRC one night. His words made perfect sense. He stopped talking in incomprehensible rhymes. "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.