emily silentbob my wonderful beautiful absolutely bodacious hardcore rochester friend 010303 ... twiggie she likes dinosaurs. they had some in montana but not the good kind. 010304 ... stupidpunkgirl i miss bobby. i missed jessi. 010304 ... soia the girl with the white face, black hair, black dress, on my wall, on my jacket label, on my skateboard 010304 ... stupidpunkgirl that girl is on my wall too, and my shirts, on my car, in my car, and my shoelaces. i don't skate anymore otherwise i would have her on a deck too 010305 ... twiggie i have her on my shoelaces too. but that's all, no where else. i'd like her to be other places but she's not. i paid for emily's lunch today AND bought her a cookie. i'm a nice friend. 010307 ... stupidpunkgirl thank you jessi 010307 ... brown cardigan boy is this girl i know in my second period. yeah she's cool, but sometimes i wonder if she has any purpose in her life. its kind of sad, she reminds me of someone going round in circles. 010308 ... stupidpunkgirl sometimes i wonder the same thing about myself 010308 ... mikey a circle is perfection. i envy the circle shape. it has no beginnings or endings. it just is. 010308 ... bijou i gave her a hamburger with mustard and pickles and she drank a small coke with a lid and a straw. i didn't tell her that i loved her. i don't suppose i knew i did. we went to mexico together. she died in a car wreck with that hambuger still in her stomach. probably. sometimes i talk to her at her grave. i ask her if there is a god. 010705 ... silentbob declared her desire to kick my ass. i let her box my ears a bit. then i flipped her over on her head onto her back. if we had gotten more into it, there would have been torn clothing. 010904 ... sweetheart of the song tra bongq Yum. No one calls me this anymore and it's so pretty to see. I'd like to hear my name again. 010904 ... bijou her house is an old three story with wooden floors and thick oak trim around the doorways. it smells like oranges and old books. emily and mike sat at the dining room table doing their homework for hours, listening to the public access radio station in minneapolis. "listen baby," she said, "it's the king." elvis hummed through the antique speakers that were placed in strategic places around the whole house. i was curled up on the avacado-green vintage couch that emily was re-upholstering herself. they had no television in their living room, just a lot of books and a huge aquarium surrounded by plants. i tried to sleep, but i couldn't. i felt like i needed to soak all of this in, so i could remember later, so i could know what it was that made me never want to leave again. 020121 ... mon tomorrow i will walk the_woods dreaming about your painted trees 040410 ... Stephen Emily, you still live inside of me. And, Emily, you are the fire in my tree. So if you should fall, please don’t call. And next time you write, I won’t stay up all night; Cos Emily you, just look at you — you’re a tragedy. 050915 ... tender_square erin told me there was a book_club meeting at her place earlier in the week, gave me an update on the women though i didn’t ask for one. i’ve often dreamt of emily, and wondered if i was too quick to let our friendship go when she was there to witness the signing of my divorce papers from brandon, when she was there to witness my second marriage. last i knew, her mom was sick with cancer and was forgoing chemo; i didn’t want the same fate that befell my mother-in-law to happen, not when emily had lost her dad only a few years before. erin told me that emily had just gotten back from a trip out west with her husband, joel. the same joel she’s been married to for twelve years now. they had their reception at cliff bells, like brandon and i did, a month before brandon and i did. she and i bonded over that shared history when we were becoming friends, the randomness of commemorating a big moment at the same jazz club, wearing our vintage gowns. emily struck me as being indifferent to the whole institution of marriage, whereas joel was a worrier. she’d said to him once, “if it doesn’t work out between us, we’ll just split up,” as in, what could be the harm in trying? she was a child of divorce whereas he wasn’t, his parents steadfast after decades. erin said that emily and joel reportedly had a great time visiting the state parks, taking in the scenic beauty of deserts and canyons and petrified forests. and it really fucking chapped my ass to know that they were together and happy and making it into double-digits (not that i wished them, or anyone else, otherwise). but they’re the second long-standing married couple i know to take a trip that reaffirmed their love and commitment to one another. and i’m sure they have their smiling selfies all over instagram and it makes me infuriatingly jealous for what i don’t have, for what i can’t feel: i believed i was in it forever. my mother keeps saying my upcoming cross-country train trip will be good for my marriage but she doesn’t know shit; doesn’t know what it’s like to love someone and need to be away from them in equal measure. and the only thing i can keep telling myself about this predicament, about this gnawing that won’t go away is “you’re allowed to change your mind” because what else is there to say? 220412 ... raze i owe you a letter. i haven't forgotten. it's something i need to write by hand, and i haven't had the fuel i need to make it happen. i used to pride myself on being punctual to the point of absurdity. now all but the most important things fall by the wayside more often than i'd like. some_night_soon i'll wreck my wrist and fill however many pages it takes to tell you where i am right now. i'm almost sure of it. 240411 what's it to you? who go blather from