octo-

it's a good number, i say. i know you know that already because it's your favorite number too, and i have no idea why i like that except that i am on an eternal search for meaning and one of my favorite places to look is in exactly those places which are coincidence: meaningless.

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there should have been this feeling when it was over, like breath being let out, like the world just slowing down to a delicious and luxurious crawl. and at first, triumphant, i watched crows circle the outside table as i picked at the red wine vinegar soaked leaves and they dropped pieces of stale pizza crust onto my lap. but it didn't even take 5 hours and i feel like driftwood. hard, weatherworn, cold, ancient. something like that.

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sometimes i hit the keys and i'm on a roll, bam, and in the middle i just lose it because i'm trying to say something but i don't quite know how even though i definitely know why and the words won't come, they just stop.

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i dreamt last night of the national mall. i've never been there, but i guess that doesn't matter, my subconscious knows i've seen pictures so it's recreatable. there were all those cherry blossoms everywhere, like the famous photos of dc, the ones you always see. i had long hair, braided, and i was wearing light blue (i never wear light blue.) you were in town from vegas - and we were talking about how it'd been too long. we were walking down the national mall and having a conversation that was sort of like the one we had in central park, when i visited you in new york one of the times, in the winter of 2011.

we walked forever, and i kept telling you how great the dinner we were going to have was, and that we'd meet them there. i don't know who them was because we never made it that far.

i keep having these dreams about the future me and that either means i'm going to die soon or something else inexplicable, i don't know what. i need to stop listening to this song.

edit: wow, how ridiculous. i dreamt about you last night and there you are, a year ago. --------------------->