stream of thought.

wind breezing past my face and the lights in the tunnel flying by...
i sing at the top of my lungs and laugh at my soprano range as it resonates and becomes louder as the concrete walls toss the sound about...


suburban woods welcome me as the trees say 'at last, someone that knows us.' while i lazily ride down the path wishing i could pick up the speed.

almost run into some guy i've seen around campus that wears red vibram shoes.
wasn't paying attention because my other cycling friend was lagging behind.


day before, practicing lines and motions.
'i never work for dis one!'
no, not right...
try it again...
'i never work for dis one!'
*points off to my right, realizes guy that i almost ran into today is there*
*feel awkward, and laugh at the irony and apologize*


wondering if those vibrams are comfortable and why they're so popular.


thinking of how much i love having my converse lined in lime green and hoping the paint will come off of my reef flip-flops.

all the sudden i wake up with a jolt as you realize how late it is...
9am class tomorrow and i got in about midnight.

i finally rinse the conditioner out of my hair and hurriedly scrub.

scrub what, i didn't even sweat.

when was the last time you really worked out; were in pain the next day, and felt good about the exercise you had done...


would be nice to cycle fast or at least not slow.
or bench.
upper-body strength sounds nice.


and i suddenly jump, shake off the thoughts pulling me under, and wake up again; finding myself faced with the most terrifying part of the day:
the end.

menacing music begins playing as i toy with the handle.
hot, cold, hot, cold...

perhaps a few more minutes of hot water rolling down my back will make the coming departure easier?

the brain, having endured this torture for years, shifts into autonomy.
the process being one humans have endured for centuries.
or at least decades.

without a thought you switch the water off and step out; cold air rushing in as i grasp my towel, dry off and wonder at how i am not thinking...

but am.

odd creature.


i walk out of the stall and find myself at the mirror; immediatly i judge my own features and inspect the new recruits your acne is training. 
was it really just a year ago those old acne spots were not there?
a year since you had freckles and smooth skin?

as i begin brushing your teeth i find myself wishing i would invest in one of those lame novelty towels that have straps so you can hold it up easily.
this idea becomes more enticing as i hold my arms tightly to your sides while washing my face.

'no, just... last... few... seconds... more....!'

going back into the stall to change clothes i carefully arrange the plastic curtain as to show nothing.
wait a minute, why do i care, wasn't it yesterday i had a friend help me fit a 'big girl bra' (not sports-bra) because i had no idea, needed one for the play, and pretty much had to get the smallest one in the store?
...yeah. yeah it was yesterday.

rinse my face off and look into my eyes as the water is running and my face is wet...
narration still running through my mind as i notice my still lips.
hmm.

odd to be talking but not talking.


then again i'm talking but not talking in a lot of cases.
sometimes i'm even making sound.


leaving the restrooms i cross the hall and into my room.

the lamp has a few bulbs burned out as to allow only one bulb to be lit at the first setting.
this is so i can turn it on without disturbing my sleeping room-mate.

...but really, i just haven't gotten around to paying for new light bulbs.

sitting down at the computer i being to breathe.

think of all the thoughts lost in transit.

wonder at how my communication with myself throughout the day has turned into building, forgetting, and deconstructing the fragments at the end of the day...

1:30am...


maybe i should record my narration as to not lose it.
ish.



...evidence for how tired i was may be shown in the fact that i intended to post this at 1:30 last night.
i thought i did...