first of all, i would like to thank the very lovely person who lost their (soft, cushioned) pretend notebook (long-lost sketchbook, really).
if you hadn’t lost it, i wouldn’t have found it.
if i didn’t find it, i wouldn’t have written my journals (nothing to write on these days).
and if i didn’t write my journals—then whose notes would i be using to post my to-be blogs?
thank you? thank you.
(no idea what this gif entails)
you’re a student, for sure.
you had doodles in the corners—eyes that look like they’ve seen god(s), or maybe just a really boring math class. you were bored. i would be too. your notes resembled drawings more than they did lectures, and you've used only a few pages (more for me).
i tried to write over them, but the pencil refused to stay still.
sometimes i think your handwriting is fighting mine. it's like you're inside, saying "this is mine."
(i let it win. finders keepers)
today i underlined the word begin seven times. not sure what i was beginning. maybe this, maybe nothing, maybe beginning is just remembering with better handwriting.
nothing really starts.
it just picks up where someone else left off.
there’s a lipstick mark on page twelve (12)
i don’t wear lipstick.
