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.