The Morning

Opened up Instagram briefly to see that I had missed someone’s birthday. Bored and annoyed, I was about to exit when I saw one of VC’s posts. I stopped. Watched her video. Reflected. I exited feeling a mixture of emotions.

VC is so cool. I can’t believe we once lived together. She changed, but for the better. I noticed this a little while ago when she started spouting off things that I believe but keep to myself. Based on her sudden change, I figured she’d done drugs, traveled, maybe to South America, in the years following graduation. Probably at the same time – took a trip, had a trip (and I’m guessing it included certain letters of the alphabet), left fundamentally altered. I’m guessing she had epiphanies. Rolling epiphanies. She seemed the type: adventurous, open, flowy, fluid. She played guitar, like me, and sang in her room, and she had a beautiful voice. She would sometimes leave her room to bake a pizza, and then disappear back into her room. I distinctly remember how she baked a lot of pizza.

Nowadays, connected only by likes and follows, she’s always sharing things that I need to hear at a particular moment. I feel like I get a lot more guidance from unexpected forms of media, like songs that pop up or books I gravitate towards or floating social media posts, than people. Maybe it’s because I’m skeptical of people, and people never seem to say the right thing or understand.

Like a two year old, I’m starting to re-marvel at the mind, and how the people around us can only infer so much from the things we deliberately say. It’s like that quote from Murakami I always circle back to, whenever I feel tired or misunderstood or whatever: “I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.”


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