moved out of 311 on saturday. it was all i could do to keep from losing some semblance of self-composure. disassembled the wall of jewelry, took down the redbluegreenyellow tibetan prayer flags, gingerly folded rye's watercolours, stacked up a pile of differently sized frames, glass faces clinking against one another in the musty smelling cardboard box that had been labeled, oddly enough, "halloween" in thick black sharpie.
the contents of my entire life since september are now stowed away in similar containers - some in drab faded brown boxes and other in unnaturally chipper bright blue and green and purple plastic tubs.
i came 'home' home and collapsed into an unmade bed. it started to rain slightly. i left everything in the car.
later on i forced my eyes open.
i have yet to do that to any of the boxes - open them. they sit in every corner of my bedroom and clothes pile on my couch. i wear the same handful of pairs of pants and unflattering shirts. what's the point, i figure?
instead of doing laundry today, i went shopping. problem solved, issued successfully avoided.
it was so beautiful out this afternoon, but i walked in a nearly palpable haze, despising myself for not taking advantage of the weather and driving to gansett with a little dave matthews and an open sunroof.
instead, to treat myself, i bought some skittles. i only ate the red ones. want to make sure those new clothes fit.