i wonder what people think in the library, when i am about to serve them, but i sit and rub my eyes for a while before calling them over. if they think about it at the time or after, if it's not what they expected - or if it's exactly what they expected from a student, or from a young male, or from a library worker or a low level worker. in terms of rising up, rubbing my eyes isn't really cutting it. but the thought is there - why am i rubbing them? do they itch, will it be long before i can no longer see? am i going over the events of the previous hour in my mind, wondering how it escalated to such a violent level? more importantly, will i snap when i serve them? am i regretting...that moment where you can change things, how i let it slip even though i had the feeling in the pit of my stomach. and now, that i am tired, and i cannot sleep, and when i do it just gets worse.
or maybe they think, it's not that bad, it's not that bad. maybe they think you can change anything, slowly and carefully.
mixtape tomorrow.
1 comment:
One day, maybe soon, I would like to think that I will secretly know what you are really talking about. But in the meantime, not knowing is so speculative that it's fog and everybody knows that I love the weather.
Post a Comment