Necessarily Considering Proposals

...you spent the first five years trying to get with the plan
And the next five years trying to be with your friends again...

I spent most of the day behind the bottle, and the open glass, and the orange and the champagne. I spent the cloudy day relaying how humid it was to everyone, and how the atmosphere is bringing more of that recipe to the table. I spent 4/20 listening to the reggae music that filled the air at Auditorium Shores, and the masses of people passing thinly-rolled masterpieces, hand to hand. I spent the day with those who make me feel warm, and high, and quite like a masterpiece.

Sometimes I'm an abandoned book sitting on a picnic table. Sometimes the wind blows me open and it lands on certain pages that tell a completely different story than that which the cover lends itself to. Sometimes I'm written in sanskrit, hard to understand and jarring in context. Sometimes I'm written in blood, bloody and unhinged. And sometimes I'm written in braille, where the words can only be felt, not read. I like to look back at some of the chapters. Revisit some of the characters, the arc of the stories, the denouement and the fringes left in their wake. The morals and critical analysis that is all that I'm left with like a silhouette on the side of a wall after a nuclear blast. I miss some of those characters. I miss them for the roles that they played and the dialogue that we shared. I miss them.

There's an unspecified number of blank pages that still remain before the back cover of this book. I can only speculate how the story goes...wanting to skip chapters to see if this is worth the read. But I hope against hope that it is interesting and fulfilling, and poised for fluidity.

We're all continuing to write those stories, and interacting with those people, and hoping for those people, and wishing for those people, and missing those people, and loving those people. My little sister now wears a ring from a boy who wants her to wear it like she'd wear it around her heart. He wants to write pages in her story, and she hands him the pen. An unexpected character who found his way into the tale and became more than a footnote.

This story has been a good story so far. Sad at times, elation at times, boredom and vitality, Winter and Summer, loud and silent, wet and dry, near and far, sand and grass, foggy and clear. This story has been a good story so far.

You've got to try to understand where you came from before you understand where you're going. I've been a lost long shot.