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the coffee shop downtown was completely full yesterday.
and the decor was terrible. there were purple drapes hanging from the windows, and jesters and geishas painted on the walls. not in a beautiful sort of fashion either. i can picture in my head what it could have looked like if done well. but it wasn't. it was a poor display for my eyes.
the minute i started to write the sun had just hit the buildings. I could see the name Louis Riel in front of me, letters shining. we had just bought music, three albums each, and it was snowing outside. the brown sugar packets in front of me were from Vancouver, and part of me wished i was there, just for a moment.
I was up late the other night. six a.m. i think. the whole next day was spent wasted. well, that's not entirely true. any day that has in it a moment of good conversation can never be said to be wasted.
in a moment of clarity, i tried, in that coffee shop, to figure out the distiction between good conversation, and chemistry.
these concepts, when tied together in my mind, are problematic in so many ways. my only response is that i often feel like people are making intellectual gain from my struggles. as if i present a problem that i can't figure out, or ask a question that i find to be worth asking, but instead of finding an answer for myself, they find an answer.
that answer is sometimes shared, sometimes not.
i wish that i could find within myself answers, instead of filling pages with more questions.