24 February 2009

I remember going on that first run in a long time and coming back home only wanting to run even more.

I remember running by the Brown sports complex surrounded by cops and black cars when Bill Clinton came to visit Brown University. I stopped and asked the cops what was going on, pretending I didn't know.

I remember grocery shopping at Stop n Shop at 3AM with Sandy and recognizing random people there, like the pizza dudes at Antonio's and other familiar everyday people. It was like having a dream with arbitrary characters in it. Except grocery shopping.

I remember spending so much time in 15 West, but not living there.

I remember all the furniture and perfectly good stuff kids would leave behind in 15 West.

I remember one of the cashier ladies at Portfolio Café. She always called me "Larry." Twerp.

I remember there was something about the new Fleet Library that always made me want to fall asleep.

I remember looking at a lot of attractive people wherever I went. It was nice.

I remember drinking at night and wanting the rush of inevitable lust.

I remember getting angry at myself whenever I got so high that I lost my train of thought in the middle of speaking a sentence.

I remember getting drunk and then eating terrible food.

I remember freedom.

I remember awkward senior class meetings, and all of a sudden it's high school again.

I remember Bridgid Mason. Yow oww.
i remember the smell of the brick, and the weight of the humidity on my skin, the smell of smoke in the doorway, the musk of things unpacked from summer storage, the rain.

i remember that hungry excitement when sitting down at kabob and curry, i remember the chutneys, i remember the nan, i remember the basmati rice, and the tandoori chicken, and the stain it left on LA's fingers.

i remember when Sandy accidentally ate marzipan cheese at the candy store that opened up on thayer when we were sophomores, and i remember the way she looked as she gagged but swallowed it down anyway.

i remember the swing-set behind hope high on a warm september night, i remember swinging and praying and feeling as lonely as i do now.

i remember the smell of the hardwood floor in my room at 44 hidden. i remember the green walls and the texture of them. that room felt like the first space i actually owned.

i remember feeling delirious with an empty stomach, aching from staying up all night over and over.

i remember how dry, tight, and swollen my hands felt after nights of sanding and finishing furniture. i remember being sore.

i remember camp berea.

i remember feeling young and alive and excited just because i was taking the trolley through the tunnel.

i remember walking illegally through that tunnel with a boy.

i remember doing other illegal things.