The picture will not change

17.5 hours later and I am staring into the same dark, inhabited by the lights that look like tiny globes from here.

I'm afraid to say what I really feel at this moment.

Tomorrow is the reading in Lawrenceville.

I got all my stuff together this afternoon.

It will be vulnerable.

Oh please hear me.

No one's going to read this.

This is not a 20things but if it were then I'd feel more distance from it and I could write something bizarre and pretend it's not real.

I hide my need with a smile.

Okay, a half smile.

I'm charmingly quirky.

Except right now, in this moment when I'm afraid to say what I really feel, I'm uncharmingly crazy. It wouldn't sound any better if I told the whole truth.

If I was the one reading this I would back away.

The ceiling fan is making the same sound it was making 17.5 hours ago. The air is still plenty warm from the day.

I swallow need.

Here's a song (Neutral Milk Hotel : Two-Headed Boy Pt. 1)
You might as well close your eyes because the picture will not change.