the one i mentioned in my last post

right now i wish i was in that diner with you again, that place we stumbled upon at 1am or 2am or whatever dark hour.
i wish that other night had lasted longer
you know, that one party, with those people.
i don’t remember much,
but i remember the way the smoke curled so beautifully outside the apartment
when we stood in a circle all bleary-eyed and glad to shed our identities for a few hours
the way we looked at each other and knew
oh god and the.
sometimes my life seems like it’s just meant to be a series of diners, gas stations, cigarettes, cups of tea
that’s all i remember, anyway.
i really don’t know what we talked about, why things were important, why i don’t like that person anymore
i don’t even remember what i used to love doing,
you know, like i pick up my camera and a part of me says, what are you doing, you don’t want to do that. and then another part says, what the fuck, of course you want to do this, take the damn photo. but why? because. and so on.
then that asshole says, well what do you want your career to be. career. what the fuck, can’t a person just live anymore
shouldn’t we first learn just how to live and then maybe.
then maybe
shit, nothing good every comes after that. then maybe. then maybe then maybe
too much uncertainty, all that dead air, too many possibilities.
i don’t like maybes.
i always say maybe
maybe we could do this maybe i’ll do this maybe she thought maybe he’ll maybe they. maybe that time was.
and i always fucking go back to that place,
that time when we were together
we were both there.
you ate your eggs and i cut my pancakes with a fork
and we both sipped our water
we laughed at the waiter. or was it waitress.
see, some things just don’t stick.
i don’t remember the person but i remember the way we giggled when they were out of earshot, the way we exchanged questioning glances and the.


i sort of like where it is. i don't know if the incompleteness/ambiguity/shortness has grown on me or if i'm just too afraid to keep going.