So many good things were happening our senior year, but it was hard for us to get involved. The weather started getting warmer, and there was less snow everyday, and people started wearing less, but we didn’t feel a thing. It was going through the motions to get somewhere we didn’t even want to be. It was thinking about needing an extra set of eyes and not being able to wake up because our clothes smelled like rainwater. We couldn’t concentrate because things were going to happen to us one day, and who on Earth is awake during the afternoon.
Instead of calculus, we wrote up an aesthetic of self-destruction and learned that sadness sucks the strength from your body and the motion from your mind. That some days are better spent sitting very still. But we also learned the power of a printed photo and a written letter. That the best poems are scribbled in the margins of biology notes. That sometimes wet socks are the funniest thing in the world.
I was alone, but I get to say we because there’s a whole lot of us all around in strange places. The only guidelines for knowing if you’ve met someone like you is that sometimes you can tell and sometimes you can’t, and sometimes you’re totally wrong.
PLUTO BLOOMING 