when i was waiting for my bud to drop by, my bed exuded an inexorable magnetism that i could not resist but for the name of friendship. she's leaving for la tomorrow, and the big apple after that- so sleepy or no, my attention was all hers. she just left, and i am free, but i cannot sleep. i believe a small dose of sleep equals about four shots of vodka- everything spills out. and tonight, she shared with me her story for the past two weeks. the pure, unadulterated version of it, brought on by a full day and only two hours of sleep from the previous night. and it's the way she is, the way she speaks that made me think; her thoughts broken down, simple, honest, yet pregnant with connotation, eerily reminiscent of my own in the wee hours of countless mornings long ago. and it struck a chord in me, a chord that hasn't been strung in a long while. so i'm sitting here with sadness, trying not to listen to this music of remembrance that may bring on regrets that have long been buried posted by testimonies 1:52 AM Add a comment . . .
