I can't say it like I write it...I can't write it like I think it...I can't think it like I feel it...and I don't feel a thing.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
ok, and then today, a girl ive never seen before stopped me in the hallway and says, "are you nate shorb?" not every day that happens. i said yes. turns out shes friends with my brother-in-law and his family. that was kinda funny.
He heard the words drag out. He felt them pull out of his mouth like freight cars, jangling, backing up on each other, grating to a halt, sliding, clinching back, jarring, and then suddenly stopping as roughly as they had begun. It was over. --Flannery O'Connor, "The Barber"
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