earlier | note

another kind of me

a trip through me


sunday, march 8, 1998, 08:18

She's pretty awful for my work habits.

was sitting on the couch (lounging, lying) working on the english midterm that wasn't finished that has to get finished that should have been finished and drifting in and out of sleep as well. hearing roommate and friend leaving room, half in sleep half out, and the phone rings. marisa on the phone.

and now, here i am. about five hours later, and far deeper into a friendship than i've ever gotten in five hours. hard really to know what you know of a person from just hours of conversation, half in sleep, brain frazzled, talking.

"ask me a question" she says

and i try. question with a question spiraling off to another conversation then finally back to the answer. but really, what was learned? tangible? probably not really. no. but more. yes. much more. and good. and emotion. and feeling. and honesty that is so often not found in friendships, not from hiding but instead only because it never comes up. but when starting anew, with new people(person) right full steam ahead with the questions quite quickly there in the open honesty is either there or it is not.

and there is no reason for it not to be, so out comes a fully honest, revealing picture of the person.

ask what i've learned, these hours later?i tell you that it's the sound of her voice contrasted against a dark blue sky. i say is the silence heard when neither had words to say. the sound of shifting positions on a bed on the far side of a campus.

and of course words as well. definite full words and stories. but so, oh so much more.

perhaps not coming through right now for lack of sleep and want for something more than mereley sentences but for real a fully enjoyable experience that made me quite happy that she walked into the theatre that time two weeks ago arms full of photographs for the gallery, silvery shirt, dark skirt, smiling, asking where to place the pictures talking after over exchange of paper flowers followed by night of silver paint photographs and oh so many words.

time for dreams now, at least a few.