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un-vague - 2000-08-08
The stars were quite clear tonight, at least for this part of Ontario... I guess it was making up for the heavy fog from last night. The fog was disturbing, as it was so thick, it felt like it was machine-generated. It felt like the entire world had suddenly become a cheap-ass carnival haunted house. The stars were clear enough for Chad and I to decide to open his sunroof, an event saved for special occasions, or, at the very least, good conversation. And it was good. Honest and candid. Sometimes, I don't understand how I can tell him some of the things I do... Tonight was one of those times. I think I got a little deep, and I got a little scary, and now I'm scared, and confused, and feel like I'm about to be pushed off of a skyscraper. Because the future, is umm, now, to be cliched. And I told him my greatest fear of the future: the unknown, and that is seemingly happening now. (of course I was more specific about what the 'unknown' really entails... what it could be, how it could be detrimental...) Sorry to be vague. It -is- my greatest fear, afterall... But what makes it more scary, just so you can possibly understand a little better: I think I would probably enjoy it, and let myself get caught up in it... I won't say anymore, I'm feeling sick and guilty thinking of it, and sick and guilty for being unnecessarily vague. I should just sit here and talk more about the weather, or my feelings on Big Brother, or something. (Apparently, William is a black supremicist...) --- Before that I met Eric for a very different conversation. one that was certainly more enjoyable, and exciting. Not only did we discuss Saturday morning comics (one of my favourite topics), but I'm getting inspired and excited more by the minute about some of the things we talked about... Oh, heavens, I'm afraid I'm being vague again. Erm, let me make it up to you... When I was with Eric I had a regular coffee, and a small pumpkin pie super-tart thing. He gave me a letter from Kiirstyn, and I kept it on the left side of the table. I played a lot with my tart shell, trying to pick up crumbs with it. When I was with Chad, I had another regular coffee, and a couple of cigarettes, which seemed very appropriate. A couple I had left over, and one of his. We sat in his car (we always do), and the windows started to fog up, and the spot where I wrote "Lucy Liu" months ago faintly showed up. Sinead O'Connor was the one song I remember on the radio. You know, she's not bald anymore.
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