Between a Story and You

I found a receipt inside an old textbook. Nearly three years ago, I purchased, at around 9 am, a CFA Chicken Biscuit and a Coke. The first thought that came to my mind was, "Oh hey I wonder if I was happier then? Wonder if me and J$@t@(!)r were together?" I guess its more or less one question. Then I began to have the common "I should call her right now" thoughts, immediately followed by intense emotional vulnerability -- all quickly erased by my learned auto-anti-depressing thought remover. Upon the blank moment of silence in my thoughts, a new question came echoing in, "What else was I doing around that time?"

I've often noticed that upon reminiscing about my five years of undergrad at Memphis, I almost always come up with the same handful of memories. Outside of that, I've got nothing. No knowledge of much of my classes and teachers. I'm not certain if they escape me, or if they were just never there to begin with.

But I know things weren't "better" then. And I was never with a girl named J$@t@(!)r once in my life. There was an apparition, a moment in which I shifted my focus away from nothing -- and transfixed it on something a little less meaningful. For that I am extremely sorry to myself. I owe it to myself to make some changes. How to catch up for lost time? How much progress was lost?

As I sit now, living in Smyrna, Tennessee...alone...

...using other people's creativity to express myself...

...this is not the way it was ever supposed to be...

...what was there supposed to be...

All the cliches are true about happiness. It sits faintly in the distance, shimmering with all its might, barely visible, like a star over a downtown.

I think my star may have burned its last gas.

But maybe that's okay. Cause then I'll get a giant burst of exhilarating rays of happiness.

...I don't believe that...

...I believe that I am happy. My tears are proof of it...




...I don't believe that either...