This has nothing to do with the rest of my post, but just to get it out of the way since I sincerely think about it a lot: Why is it that I have an intense I-need-to-brush-my-teeth-soon feeling whenever I finish (and sometimes before I finish) chewing gum? I don't get that feeling after eating virtually any type of food, even something like garlicky raw meat soaked in onion juice (mmm, I know), just when I chew gum. It is so unpleasant. So why don't I stop chewing gum? Well, I will once I get a Xanax prescription. Or once I break my jaw.
Okay, and now for something entirely different.
Days like today are delicate. There is an impersonal resignation about the grayness, a deep hollowness that is at the same time oddly comforting and obviously terrifying. Days like today solicit stabbing memories of various abandonments, betrayals, and ultimate loss. But in a quiet way. In a way that make them background ghosts, but ghosts nonetheless. The ghosts are there to spook- and they surely will- just in their sneaky specter way. They linger. They sometimes get lost in the distant fog or hide behind awkward lamp posts, yet their presence is sensed and almost sought. So what is there left to do on haunted days like today when you don't even cast a shadow? Is it too much or too little to embody a ghost of your own? A ghost of a girl who is merely looking for a warm corner to lie down and forget for just one more day.