"You are not in love with that girl, you are infatuated with her looks and her currently limitless potential."
like that girl with the pixie cut in one of my other classes such a
pretty face with little else to offer. she's twenty six or something
and almost a total mute, i thought she was slow at first but i got her
to talk a bit and it turns oun she's jus devoid of social skills. a
painter/art major turned fireman/emt. i think her name is heather,
she's an olive shouldered mexi-something in the north part of europe
but more of an elf i think. she'd be at home in a tree, living off of
berries and whistling with woodland creatures, and i mean this in the
nicest way. the sort of elegant albeit shorter elf you may have read of
in greek mythologies. i think they called them druids or nymphs there,
but it's all the same .one of those pristine forms, athletic from the
swim class she teaches and fireman physical training that i guess is
inherent in the school's program. these delicately set eyes, light
brown like my brother's were when he was younger. i've always liked the hazel ones in any case. Hazel, what does that even mean? I always called them Rusty-jade since they look that way. Some sunbleached green stone that had rusted so pretty near the center of the iris.
Here she was, the Hazel eye'd girl walking to class or maybe her car, it had been the third or fourth time i'd seen her walking uphill here. I was on my bicycle riding back to the ceramics studio coming out of a humanities class. Psyc26 or psychology of sexuality, but i just called it a psyc class. people asked about it if you told them the full name of the course, and i am retaking it due to a bad grade due to a, well. i don't really know. my problem i think is that for as loud as i am around friends or other people in the studiom i'm pretty quiet in this class. i don't have many friends, which is something i noticed in french when i took that with my brother. i kind of stick to myself and only talk to people on a neccesity basis. the conversations are filler, conversational lubricant because i'm not really interested in them and they aren't really interested in me. "what classes are you taking? what's your major? how are you?" the same insencire platitiudes you learn early, gradeschool maybe.
in any case she was there walking this way in flip flops and jeans. i had both hands on my bars and was kind of in a hurry since i had left my hoodie in my bag and it was too breezy to be comfortable in an undershirt and cutoffs. i got a smile recipricated the second time i saw her, something like 'oh-hey didn't i see you yesterday,' only with a lot less intention. at least she looked me in the eyes when i rode past. It is intolerable when people can't look you in the eyes. Driving i think is when i note it the most. We are at a light and i'm trying to glean as much as possible for the cars in my immediate proximity by seeing how clean their car is, what sort of vanily plates they may have or trinkets in the windows. i especially like to see people dancing in their little metal boxes. other twenty somethings with showing similar carelessness about the weather having all four windows down makes me feel bright from the chest out. the way the wind whips your hair and you have to keep checking the passanger seat or rear bench seat for paper that maybe important enought to weigh down with something sitting up front. usually a jacket. i guess you can read peaple very much by how or what they drive, the same with women and their brows. it's one of the first things i look at, eyes and brows if she's close enough, waist down if distance is a factor. brows are of supreme importance. a girl with clean brows sculpts her appearance more than often, more than regularly even. shaped brows may complete or destroy a face, the right kind makes her inviting and never severe, or wry. i think those are my favourite. the square or rectangular shapes with the sweeping curve that follows the brow-bone. when they peak just over the most complementary of eyeware, sleek squared lenses always preferred over the ironic pointed tips or bedazzled frames plebians wear. maybe askew a bit because she fell asleep reading the first couple of weeks she got the pair.
anyways,
this is always the way it went. see girl. she smiles back. imagine life together.
i have to return some videotapes.
like that girl with the pixie cut in one of my other classes such a
pretty face with little else to offer. she's twenty six or something
and almost a total mute, i thought she was slow at first but i got her
to talk a bit and it turns oun she's jus devoid of social skills. a
painter/art major turned fireman/emt. i think her name is heather,
she's an olive shouldered mexi-something in the north part of europe
but more of an elf i think. she'd be at home in a tree, living off of
berries and whistling with woodland creatures, and i mean this in the
nicest way. the sort of elegant albeit shorter elf you may have read of
in greek mythologies. i think they called them druids or nymphs there,
but it's all the same .one of those pristine forms, athletic from the
swim class she teaches and fireman physical training that i guess is
inherent in the school's program. these delicately set eyes, light
brown like my brother's were when he was younger. i've always liked the hazel ones in any case. Hazel, what does that even mean? I always called them Rusty-jade since they look that way. Some sunbleached green stone that had rusted so pretty near the center of the iris.
Here she was, the Hazel eye'd girl walking to class or maybe her car, it had been the third or fourth time i'd seen her walking uphill here. I was on my bicycle riding back to the ceramics studio coming out of a humanities class. Psyc26 or psychology of sexuality, but i just called it a psyc class. people asked about it if you told them the full name of the course, and i am retaking it due to a bad grade due to a, well. i don't really know. my problem i think is that for as loud as i am around friends or other people in the studiom i'm pretty quiet in this class. i don't have many friends, which is something i noticed in french when i took that with my brother. i kind of stick to myself and only talk to people on a neccesity basis. the conversations are filler, conversational lubricant because i'm not really interested in them and they aren't really interested in me. "what classes are you taking? what's your major? how are you?" the same insencire platitiudes you learn early, gradeschool maybe.
in any case she was there walking this way in flip flops and jeans. i had both hands on my bars and was kind of in a hurry since i had left my hoodie in my bag and it was too breezy to be comfortable in an undershirt and cutoffs. i got a smile recipricated the second time i saw her, something like 'oh-hey didn't i see you yesterday,' only with a lot less intention. at least she looked me in the eyes when i rode past. It is intolerable when people can't look you in the eyes. Driving i think is when i note it the most. We are at a light and i'm trying to glean as much as possible for the cars in my immediate proximity by seeing how clean their car is, what sort of vanily plates they may have or trinkets in the windows. i especially like to see people dancing in their little metal boxes. other twenty somethings with showing similar carelessness about the weather having all four windows down makes me feel bright from the chest out. the way the wind whips your hair and you have to keep checking the passanger seat or rear bench seat for paper that maybe important enought to weigh down with something sitting up front. usually a jacket. i guess you can read peaple very much by how or what they drive, the same with women and their brows. it's one of the first things i look at, eyes and brows if she's close enough, waist down if distance is a factor. brows are of supreme importance. a girl with clean brows sculpts her appearance more than often, more than regularly even. shaped brows may complete or destroy a face, the right kind makes her inviting and never severe, or wry. i think those are my favourite. the square or rectangular shapes with the sweeping curve that follows the brow-bone. when they peak just over the most complementary of eyeware, sleek squared lenses always preferred over the ironic pointed tips or bedazzled frames plebians wear. maybe askew a bit because she fell asleep reading the first couple of weeks she got the pair.
anyways,
this is always the way it went. see girl. she smiles back. imagine life together.
i have to return some videotapes.
No comments:
Post a Comment