Jarvis, Jarvis, Jarvis, Betty, Betty, Betty, Betty, Toya, Toya, Toya, Toya.
Hyperactive pets that I'm not quite sure I'll ever be ready for despite being a self professed five year old masquerading as a twenty-something.
We're sitting here in a house full of glass doors and tables, sipping tea and being molested by cocker spaniels. Our Special K had chocolate flakes in it. We're sporting bed-hair that would give Conor Oberst a run for his money. (If he has any... His solo album was a little country. It was a much more seamless transition than the time Madonna attempted it. Not that anyone was paying attention!)
I'm staying with my best friend/soul-mate who has adopted me for some heavy duty heart healing, and despite the fact that my clothes smell like puppy and that trains and buses freak me out - this is exactly where I want to be. This is exactly where I need to be.
It's been less than a day and I already feel like I'm finding my words again... a little. Baby steps in adult shoes. There is no real reason for this post. I just wanted to commandeer the blog for a little while and to also thank Maddie for the midnight therapy session last night, rescuing me from Central station and adopting me right when I needed it.
It used to be difficult describing our friendship because it seems so unbelievable, so this is all I'll say for now: She's my hero, pulse and parachute all rolled into one. The constant voice in the back of my head reminding me: "You're not Kurt Cobain."
And I know everything will be okay eventually.
After all, I'd rather smell like cocker spaniel than teen spirit.
Edit from Maddie: my friends are golden. and make metaphysics better.
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1 comment:
you're studying metaphysics? Where? Nature Care??
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