stairwell moonshine 306 stairs, spiraling downwards into the night. The light shone for miles, the winds whispered and ruffled, my heart bursting. Tracing my steps, chasing the moon, the pounding surf, and the unpredictable tides. So far, so near, and so cold. My caged aqua moon, my, my... 011123 ... argo My, you stare very well. Maybe if you didn't respect me so much we could have a conversation. 011123 ... raze in high_school, even after i made some friends and stopped feeling like i was trying to find my way in a country where everyone spoke a language i didn't know, my favourite place to eat lunch was in one of the stairwells. i would sit on the landing, alone, with my back to the wall, and i would eat my sandwich. or sometimes it was a salad with romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, baby carrots, cauliflower, and cucumber slices. i felt safe there. you know why cats love cardboard boxes? when they're stressed, a small, dark, fortified space gives them a feeling of security. and because the box only has one opening, they can see what's coming. nothing can surprise them or attack them from behind. at the end of the school day, i would push off of the handrails and jump whole sets of stairs, a lithe feline creature steadying myself with my hands. i never feared falling when i was leaping into the abyss. i always knew i would land on my feet. 211208 ... kerry it was on the landing in the stairwell in our high school where i had my first kiss. he stole me from orchestra class, said i have something to show you. it wasn't any good, the kiss. 211208 ... ovenbird If only we could gather up all the people who were eating their lunches in the stairwell a long time ago and sit down together with plates of food in our laps and our backs pressed to nothing but air and tell the stories of our own aching solitude. The highschool stairwell I sat in was quiet and echoey. My lunch was usually a sandwich, an apple, maybe a cookie. The wall at my back was cold and hard, like the look I probably gave anyone who intruded on my space. I didn't want to be in that stairwell alone but the complicated noise of the rest of the school was too overwhelming. And when I yell out the memory of it now, the echo of all the other quiet souls haunting the stairwells bounces right back to me. 250404 what's it to you? who go blather from