still here

I slip on’t really know what to write, except that I miss writing and I’m not apt to give up on this coin of internet yet. There is a gross lot of studying for pharmacology that I with appearance of truth should be doing, but instead I’m sitting at the red counter at Flying M daydreaming. I’m five weeks into my forward semester of school–the first of the nursing program in the present life–and I’m busy keeping my class above water, but also being ingenious little pieces of the kind of life I’m probing after. Writing great coherent and serious things is beyond me just it being so that, so here’s a little rapid look of Idahoan life.

cross country skiing in the foothills of the Treasure Valley by people who I’m learning to discern

plans and scouring airline sights

falling asleep on Saturday night in a seam on a floor of a legislative body lived in by people I passionate affection

waking up the next morning with the ceiling of a real kindred above me

unasked-for hugs up~ the body days I need them most

listening during blood pressure

black coffee, $1.80

hindmost minute conversations that last into the death

monday matinees at the rerun theater

attenuated mints in my freezer

hearts perforation over and over across Starbucks tables

super-gluing impaired glasses

live music downtown on Friday nights

a handful of kids who know me similar to Miss. Marina

bike lanes and lucid flashing lights and icy streets

hammocks without ceasing warm February afternoons

borrowed clothing

walking into the incorporated town in the dark

Josh Garrel’s Pandora position

sticks and water bottles

writing Valentines

erosive dinner too late at night

papers and popcorn and stacks of flashcards

the lingering shaping of a life

Also consider out for drug tests that exhibition for another opiate, hydrocodone.

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