It was one of those nights where my little brother and I shared the couch and a warm comforter, watching what we could watch on a Sunday night. It wasn’t even ten yet and already our eyes were drooping, conversation null and attentions drifting elsewhere.
I remembered another night: off the cold, wind-swept streets of Chinatown, sitting across my companion in a small, brightly-lit restaurant. Conversation was full then, our laughter mingling in the warm air with the other patrons’ discourse. Our discussions ranged from updating each other of current situations, to reminiscing on past events we’d already reminisced about hundreds of times, and to random, random topics (it was this that brought us together as friends in the first place – healthy common interest). Conversation ebbed and flowed that night, the pace never settled into one, but the comfort level was always constant.
It was during that time when the pauses were longer that she asked, “So how’s ?”
And that memory led me down another train of thought.
Let me tell you a story
whether it be fact or fiction.
It’s quite cold in here. And this kitchen is as bare as when I first came.
My room’s gotten messy, but it always gets messy. Mhmm. I always clean ‘later’ though, so it’s ok.
This place has a lot of room with no TV to fill it with background noise, but I’m armed with a laptop and some DVD’s. That usually keeps me laughing - until I notice the time.
And then my showers are wonderfully hot and long.
Too bad my sleep is short and not very deep.
It’s easy to notice, and it’s also easy to not acknowledge, what’s there and what isn’t.
Wonderland really is that colorful. Alice told me herself.
It’s got color that overtakes all your vision and leaves you seeing nothing else.
There are other ways to leave you seeing nothing else. It’s too easy to get blind-sided.