it's nights like these that i'm terrified of leaving.  a night in which i can
sit mostly silent and see around me faces that are famiiar.  a sense of 
satisfaction - personal acknowedgement that i've existed here enough to
recognize a community even if i still stand on the outside and just observe.
do people on the inside know they're on the inside?  do they know that people
peer in, as if their social life is an aquarium?

conversations filled with miscommunications but laughter nonetheless.
indescribable inspiration.  no explanation.  none.  absurdity.  false
density.  how can i explain?  see above.

mango juice that burns my chin.  eyelids made of foil.  

tonight written words are just as difficult as those spoken.  

*want*